Dear Theodosia
by gingermusicalphan
Summary: Philip and Theodosia are both the children of influential politicians, so it's no surprise when they become good friends as children. But as the rivalry between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr swells to breaking point, can their friendship survive? And what will happen when it becomes something more?
1. Chapter 1 - When you came into the world

**A/N: Hey reader, welcome to multi-chapter fic #2! I went for my Philip x Theo plan! Okay, they start off pretty young, but they'll grow up soon enough, and they're both quite mature, so hopefully they won't seem too sickeningly sweet, which is always my biggest fear with writing about child characters! I'm looking forward to this. I chuck in a few political events for Alex and Aaron to fight about, but I don't really know all that much about anything, so don't view anything here as factual. Even so, I love including tiny snippets of truth, so some of it is inspired by real events! Hope you enjoy this :D**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hamilton at all in any way, as much as I wish I did!**

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Chapter 1 - Summer 1793

The porch of the Burr family home seemed almost obnoxiously large and decadent to the man standing inside it, his eldest child proudly at his side. In fact, everything about the small front garden seemed exaggerated in its perfection, and although the pristine lawn and precise topiary earned the approval of the young boy, to his father it gave the impression of the home owner over-compensating.

 _Perhaps he thinks a well presented garden is a reasonable substitute for an opinion,_ the man considered bitterly. He couldn't help the grimace which always graced his face when he thought of the potential Burr simply tossed aside with his constant hesitation.

The child beside him was brimming with all the excitement his father lacked: Philip Hamilton was only eleven years old, and he was delighted that his father had deemed him mature enough to accompany him to a meeting such as this. Well, not quite a meeting, but an important discussion nonetheless about some sort of trade deal with England, and one he hoped to learn a lot from. Alexander Hamilton would be eternally grateful that even though his children weren't living in a situation as desperate as his own childhood had been, a situation which had forced into him a desire for something better and which had left him no option but to incessantly strive to increase his intelligence, their comfortable social standing had not sapped their thirst for knowledge and ambitions of greatness. He was hugely relieved that he knew Philip dreamed of being just like him, which was why he was so keen to include the boy in his work.

He knelt down so as to look directly into Philip's eyes, and explained, "Mr Burr is a clever man, but he is also very frustrating. He refuses to stand for what he believes in -"

"So we have to convince him. I know, you already told me!" Philip exclaimed with a grin, pleased to have prior knowledge of what he was about to witness. It didn't matter that he didn't know exactly the subject matter Aaron Burr was determined to avoid sharing his view on, his father was proud even so. Alexander matched the smile, beaming with paternal joy at his bubbly young man. After a moment, he stood and rapped his knuckles on the solid oak, sharp and confident.

Mrs Theodosia Burr opened the door, the kind smile which had won Aaron Burr's heart shining with intelligence as she greeted them. The warmth in it was almost enough to distract from the fact that her shining eyes were set within tired, dark circles, while her cheeks were gaunt and hollow and her complexion lacked its usual healthy colour. She didn't seem to notice it herself as she welcomed them, "Mr Hamilton, please, come in. And you must be Philip, I'm so pleased to see another bright young person following in the bold footsteps of our founders."

Immediately, Philip took a liking to Mrs Burr. "I'm going to be just as bold as my father!" He declared happily, his enthusiasm earning a chuckle.

"Theodosia, it's good to see you looking so well," Hamilton nodded respectfully as he stepped inside. She lead the pair through to the sitting room, where Burr was already sat, conversing with his little girl. They noticed the newcomers and looked up at them in unison, identical pairs of eyes scanning them with matching wit. They stood at the same time, Burr immediately plastering a pleasant smile on his face, though it was visibly less genuine than the one he wore when talking with the younger Theodosia.

"Alexander... Philip," he walked towards the older of his guests, shaking his hand firmly and gesturing for him to take a seat. Hamilton placed himself in an armchair, Philip sitting on the foot stool beside it without explicitly being offered the place. The Burrs returned to the sofa, a Theodosia on either side of Aaron.

"Thank you for meeting with us, sir," Alexander began. Burr couldn't help but sigh at the " _sir_ " in the sentence: That was always the tell-tale signal that Hamilton was about to burst into a political tirade, and although he knew to expect it, he'd dared to hope that by meeting in a friendly, casual setting, Alexander might spare a moment to be polite and social before launching into his lecture. _No such luck,_ Burr realized, disappointed.

"Would you like a refreshment before you begin?" Mrs Burr suggested, laying a comforting hand on Aaron's arm; she could always sense when he was frustrated, and this was her attempt to delay the rant her husband anticipated and feared, if only for the time it took to drink a cup of tea.

Unfortunately, Hamilton was unwilling to play along. "No thank you. We have important business to see to - for example, the Jay Treaty. Sir, what do you really think about it?"

Seeing Theodosia's stalling technique had failed but grateful nonetheless for her effort, he took her hand to calm himself and to help him retain his trademark smile as he replied, "You _know_ I'm spearheading the campaign to have several of the articles reviewed."

Philip glanced between the two men and struggled to untangle the political jargon as his father shot back, as aggressively as if he'd just been insulted, "That's not what I asked. That's what you're _doing_ about the treaty, not what you _think_ about it. Knowing you, the two are likely miles apart."

"Because you think I'd go out of my way to support something I don't believe in?"

"Because I _know_ you'd go out of your way to support the most favourable thing in the eyes of the people. The vast majority of whom, might I add, know nothing of the true value of the treaty, and yet still you pander to their wants. What about what they _need_ , Sir?"

The smile was now firmly confined to his mouth, his eyes devoid of the friendly comradeship it indicated as he replied, "The people can tell they've been dealt an unfair hand. The treaty grants them England so much, yet we receive little in exchange. They get to keep the compensation we are owed from their reckless rampage and theft of our property during the revolution, they limit our prosperous trade with the West Indies, this treaty compromises our close trade relationship ergo our war alliance with France, and in return we cut their import taxes? I'd say the people have a decent grasp on how unjust this proposed plan is." His daughter gazed admiringly up at him, adoring the way he defended himself so surely and calmly.

Unfazed, Hamilton smirked slightly as he teased, "How long did it take you to memorize your lines? That is, I assume that was your pre-designed response, it's too pristine for you to come up with on the spot. It doesn't even _sound_ like you, really, just some mechanical puppet. I know you're not a fool, Sir, at least not intellectually speaking. You know as well as I do that a few minor inconveniences mean nothing compared to the real reward of the treaty: it keeps us neutral. Britain doesn't fight us because we buy and sell her goods, France doesn't try to recruit us to fight with her or worse, drag us into the pandemonium she calls revolution, because we're keeping our distance from her, all the while preserving our advantageous position to negotiate with her. That stability for a country in its infancy is far more important than a few unpaid war debts, and I know you can recognize that just as plainly as I can." Philip gazed in awe as his father delivered the emphatic reply.

Aaron squeezed Theodosia's hand in his as he answered, "It's an unfair Treaty."

"It's a _necessary_ Treaty. You know that if we refuse it, we'll likely be dragged into war within the next six months. You could help keep your country safe, yet you elect to chase popularity instead. Why?"

The smile faded as Burr replied, "I _must_ do as they want. If I don't, they will reject me as many have rejected you, defame and scorn me like they have to you." As Hamilton began to argue, he interrupted, "Those of us less accustomed to refuting each and every accusation in a fit of fervour will surely succumb to pressure to withdraw from politics much more easily than those like you, Alexander, so don't tell me I'm being irrational. I'm being _responsible_ , guaranteeing my future rather than causing controversy in the present."

With a groan of unrestrained disgust, Alexander complained, "You simply can't stand to look at the real issues facing the country!"

Thoroughly irked by the harsh criticism of her husband, Theodosia commented, "If you believe that to be the case, perhaps you'd prefer to take a moment to discuss a more sociable topic. Aaron's practice as a lawyer, for example, seeing as you worked so closely when you were a lawyer yourself." Hamilton granted the older woman the grace of humoring the shift in conversation. He would have been far less passive if he had been able to predict the next subject she brought up: Theodosia leaned forwards conspiratorially as she revealed, with an air of excitement which made it feel as if she were gossiping at a party, "He told me about a most interesting case of divorce, a young woman named Mary Lewis. Do you know her?"

Hamilton mulled over the name for a few seconds, searching his mind for any situation where he might have heard it; he was adamant that it was unfamiliar to him, however he knew Theodosia was as wise a woman as the 10 year age gap between herself and her husband could be expected to lend her, and there was almost certainly something more to the name than simply a piece of gossip. "I'm sure I don't... Should I?"

Burr was gazing adoringly at his wife now with all the love and gratitude in the world - it was clear _he_ knew what indecipherable game she was playing. In return, she gave him a mischievous grin before continuing to the guest with all the confidence of a cat playing with a mouse before going in for the kill, "Perhaps you _ought_ to know her. Mary Lewis was her maiden name, maybe you're familiar with a Maria Reynolds instead?" She registered the way he stiffened immediately at the mention of the name, his eyes darting to his oblivious son, who was thankfully looking at Burr and missing his father's guilty unease, then to Burr himself, disbelieving and humiliated that he obviously knew of his connection to Reynolds from taking her as a client, and then back to Theodosia, who was still grinning smugly, delighted that she'd managed to save her love from his taunting. Nevertheless, it was never her intention to out the affair in the presence of young Philip, only to put a stop to Alexander's sharp tongue. So she excused her accusation of familiarity, "I know you're drawn to all things bizarre or controversial, and her story was definitely rather fanciful, Mr Hamilton."

"I don't know her," he lied, replying too fast, jaw clenching with irritation at the unprecedented shift in atmosphere Mrs Burr had managed to bring about. _There's a reason_ , he realized, _that Burr calls her his most trusted ally in battle._ Despite being at the receiving end of it, he had to admire her undeniable wit and sturdy dedication to her husband. He recognized a similar strength within his own wife, and he couldn't help but respect her for it.

"In which case, we may return to the matter at hand, and I would thank you for refraining from outright insults when we do so, Alexander," Burr warned, still visibly delighted by his wife's victory.

Hamilton nodded curtly. "Yes. I would only want my son to see civilized conversation, not a series of low blows making the political personal." A meaningful look at both other adults which the boy he spoke of completely missed.

Philip decided that the lull in conversation was a suitable point to share his own views: "My father's often the victim of personal attacks, but he always manages to refute false claims made against him," He proudly announced, sitting up straighter as he contributed to the discussion.

Feeling that for the first time that it had become acceptable for a child to partake in the adults' debate, young Theodosia boasted, "Well _my_ father manages to avoid conflict in the first place. It's much more sensible, in my opinion." Though only ten years old, she spoke with confidence and the same motivation to defend her father as her namesake, and her interjection earned approving smiles from both her parents.

"Well, what if he needs to say something important? How will he get his voice heard if he stays out of the spotlight?" Philip asked, not anywhere near as accusingly as his father had been when posing a similar question.

"That will be the day," Alexander muttered.

"Just because he doesn't immediately jump into the fray at every opportunity, doesn't mean he won't be ready to take a stand when he does!" She argued, the words seeming much too mature to be coming from such a young girl. Then again, both her parents were known for their superior intellect, it was hardly surprising that she took after them.

Relieved in spite of himself at the lighter, almost humorous atmosphere the children had brought to the room, Alexander smiled at the sight: two clever young people sitting beside their politician fathers, eagerly debating. Of course, that one half of the conversation was his son explaining how proud he was of his father was an additional bonus to him.

Burr voiced Hamilton's thoughts: "Look at our little prodigies, the very spit of their parents, both with plenty of their own brains. Maybe the pair of you would like to continue this in the next room? Mr Hamilton and I _do_ have important things to see to, after all." After the vote of confidence from his daughter, he was ready to resume the discussion, this time with his knowledge of the Reynolds affair as a shield from Alexander's personal questions.

Hamilton, too, was eager to proceed, knowing he had a task to accomplish, and added, "You could show Theodosia some of your poetry, Philip."

"But I wanted to watch!" He protested, turning pleading eyes on his father.

Taking the hint that the men wanted privacy, Theodosia joined in too. "Come now Philip, your mother told me you play piano. You can play with Theo, she's learning herself," Theodosia encouraged, standing and ushering the children to their feet. Before she left, she pressed a sweet kiss to Aaron's cheek, and then herded the children next door.

"This is so unfair... He told me I could watch," Philip muttered under his breath.

Beside him, Theo smirked playfully, "There you have it, the final proof that not making promises is the better approach - _my_ father told _me_ no such thing, and which of us is happier?"

Philip gave her a long look, frowning as he tried to disagree, to come to his father's defence. But after a moment looking at that teasing and infectious smirk, he found he couldn't help but join in, smiling at the young girl as he granted her that victory. "Very clever," he begrudgingly admitted, his cheerful expression taking the sting out of his words.

"Theo, why don't you show Philip the song I taught you yesterday?" Theodosia encouraged her little girl, whose face immediately became a picture of pain at the suggestion, as they entered a bright room with a pink couch, a coffee table, a large piano and a breathtaking view of the garden.

"Mother, I barely remember it, please don't make me embarrass myself in front of Philip," she pleaded, trying to convey her desperation to avoid the situation through her wide brown eyes which she fixed on the elder woman.

"Then you can read it from the sheet," Theodosia replied, immovable in her request: one of her greatest pleasures was to hear the gentle flowing of music played for her, and she was keen for her daughter to pick up the gift of music so that she could reproduce it.

"Fine," Theo huffed, her maturity and formality apparently abandoned when not in her father's presence and when irritated by her mother's stern request. She took a seat at the piano, having to lift herself onto the stool with her hands and wriggling backwards due to her short height. Philip watched curiously as she flicked through a book of sheet music, coming to rest on a certain page. She took a deep breath before she began to play, her fingers clumsily slipping as her eyes darted frantically between the page and the keys, long pauses ensuing every so often as she struggled to find the next note. As she began to settle into the song, her fingers moved more effortlessly over the keys, and it became clear that she was adept at reading sheet music. Even so, it caused the young boy who found such joy in playing piano great consternation to see that she was visibly stiff, as if playing was an unpleasant chore rather than a hobby.

It was a song Philip knew himself, though he took a moment to recognize it from Theodosia's shaky start to her rendition. Or at least, it was a song he could play his own individual version of; much to his mother's chagrin, he was prone to improvising when he played, and though Elizabeth admired the way he swiftly adapted to recreate songs in a slightly different way, sometimes she wished he would simply adhere to the worldwide convention of reading sheet music. Nevertheless, he recognized that his own more carefree approach could benefit Theo.

He approached the piano and shuffled on to the stool beside her. She glanced at him, and he noticed her intense frown of concentration for the first time. She didn't stop playing, however, determined to reach the end of the song. Without explaining anything to her, he joined in, playing at a slower tempo to stay in time with her own hesitant pace - she'd intentionally slowed down, most likely to give her mind the time to process the scribbles on the song sheet. But each time she glanced up to check the page, Philip continued to play something he knew she'd recognize as a deviation from the instructions.

At first it threw her off, and each altered version caused her to make a jarring stop. But as he continued, she gradually learned to mimic his easy, effortless playing, slowly growing accustomed to combining the snatches she recalled from memory with an estimation of what the song should sound like. She peeled her gaze from the keys, her frown replaced by her enthusiastic smile, and shared her delight with the boy beside her. They reached the end of the song in a soaring harmony, Philip playing an unwritten base melody as she created her own higher notes, melding together to create a great unprecedented symphony.

As the song finished, the two pianists and the audience of one were equally silent. After a moment to savour the last reverberating vibrations as they faded away in an echo, Theodosia congratulated with a proud maternal smile, "That was wonderful, both of you."

Theodosia smugly grinned at her mother as she pointed out, "Philip plays better than I do, and _he_ doesn't waste time learning how to read the sheet."

Her new friend was somewhat envious of her obvious skill at meticulously playing exactly the correct melody, however. "I wish _I_ had enough patience to follow the sheet as well as you do," he complimented, unreservedly impressed by her talent.

"No you don't!" Theo argued, nudging him with her elbow.

"Yes, I do!" Philip shot back adamantly.

"Now be sensible, I think that kind of improvisation is... indispensable," Theo replied, purposefully attempting to use the kind of eloquent language her father used when he was trying to win an argument.

Philip opened his mouth to reply, before Theodosia interrupted the playful squabble of modesty, "I think you both played beautifully. Philip, you have a gift... and Theo, you -"

A crash from the next room froze the flow of conversation. A door slamming followed seconds later, and then there was the unmistakable sound of stomping footsteps drawing closer. Alexander flung open the door aggressively, his face furiously red and his eyes blazing with the fire which heated him so much.

"Philip, we're leaving," he ordered through gritted teeth. He snatched the boy by the hand and pulled him along behind him as he stormed out, not even calm enough to utter a courteous farewell to the ladies of the house who'd done nothing to warrant that rage.

Pulled along behind his rampaging father, Philip could only glance fleetingly over his shoulder at the women he'd bonded with in the short time he'd shared their company. His initial concern was to wonder what on earth had caused his father to leave the Burr residence in such an angry rush. But second thought was to ponder whether or not he'd get to see Theo again: the intelligent, headstrong little girl, the daughter of the very man who'd just caused such a torrent of outrage from his father, had thoroughly piqued his interests, and he was keen to see her again.


	2. Chapter 2 - My name is Philip, Im a poet

**A/N: Hey reader! This one gets pretty fluffy, I hope that's good with you! We see the relationship of Eliza and Theodosia in this chapter, and Angelica Hamilton is there, so yeah... I absolutely love Angie, mostly because of Minniemora! So anyway, let's go!**

 **Disclaimer: I have no rights to Hamilton or these characters**

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Chapter 2 - Autumn 1793

Philip and Angelica had always been close siblings, with only two years separating them they had much in common. One thing in particular they loved to do together was to spend hours playing the grand piano their aunt had shipped over from London. They frequently escaped their lessons of languages and maths to instead battle for musical dominance, engaging in fervid competitions of who could play the most intricate melody, and that mild Autumn afternoon was no exception.

"Angelica, you can't just play the same thing again and again, you know it so well you're bound to be better than me!" Philip complained, pushing her hands from the keys and beginning to play his own song. He always found it bizarre how his sister always returned to playing one of the first tunes her father had ever taught her, a song from the misty parts of her childhood which she struggled to recall without certain moments being thoroughly obscured by a hazy fog. Music, however, was something which she would always recall, piercing through forgetfulness and allowing her to effortlessly recreate the familiar sound.

"I'm better than you anyway," Angelica taunted, immediately replacing her fingers on the piano and continuing to play in a higher key with an irritatingly smug grin.

"Not true!" He protested, playing his own completely different tune in an attempt to distract her. Immediately the loud chords aggressively pummelled by his hands caused her own fingers to stumble, putting an end to her pristine rendition.

"No!" She complained with a high pitched squeal which instantly brought their mother rushing towards the room in a swirl of skirts, anxious to prevent a fight between her eldest children: she knew they were the closest of the brood, but they often argued needlessly, both filled with the competitive nature and fierce stubbornness which constantly fuelled their father.

"Philip, Angelica, what on earth is going on?" She asked as she dashed in and saw Angelica moaning while Philip continued to play, not even watching to keep track of his fingers and instead pulling faces at his little sister to completely drown out and obliterate her own attempt. Elizabeth struggled not to laugh aloud at the sight of his ridiculously contorted facial expressions, knowing it would only encourage her son to tease the girl, nevertheless she smiled in amusement, biting her lip to stifle a larger grin. "Angelica my love, please don't let him irritate you, he's just being silly," she assured the nine year old, walking over to her and kissing her head, giving the girl a quick hug to quiet her loud complaints.

"But he's cheating, Mama, he keeps trying to distract me!" She whined pitifully, lamenting his underhanded tactics.

"Now, my Angelica, don't you know to ignore people when they're being unfair?" Eliza encouraged, squeezing Angelica's shoulders affectionately and resting her cheek on her head.

Angelica sighed quietly and considered it a moment. Then, with a reluctant grumble, she agreed, "Yes, mother."

Elizabeth turned her attention to Philip next, who'd stopped playing and was watching the two identical women intently. "And you, young man, should know not to be a tease - it's most unbecoming in a young gentleman!"

Philip lowered his eyes, but still smirked mischievously, knowing from the sparkling laughter in his mother's face for certain that she wasn't truly angry at him. "Sorry, Mother. I just wanted to be the best," he declared, his excitement returning wholeheartedly as he was captured again by competitive spirit.

"Well, you're the best at losing," Angelica retorted, smiling playfully again now that Eliza had eased her wounded pride.

"Hey! I'm not, Mother, tell her!" He insisted.

"Now both of you stop this squabbling. You both play so beautifully when you work together..." Both children looked to her expectantly as she trailed off. They saw the hopeful glint in her eyes and slightly longing smile which asked the children what she would not state verbally. Always eager to please their trusting, kind mother, they felt morally obliged to indulge her unspoken request. The siblings shared a conferring glance, silently agreeing to set aside their rivalry for the time being.

"I'll play the melody, you can have the chords!" Angelica decided, quickly laying claim to the more intricate part of the song; if she was still trying to prove herself the more talented musician, it certainly gave her an advantage.

Philip instantly recognized her intention. And yet, with Eliza so eagerly awaiting their peaceful playing, he decided he would be magnanimous. _Angie's younger anyway, it's okay to let her get away with some things,_ he justified, and nodded in compliance with her demand.

Both began to play in unison, Angelica excelling as Philip had predicted. It didn't matter much to him, because to the young boy, family was even more important than honour, and if his action made his sister proud enough that it motivated her to continue perusing the skill, and caused Eliza to close her eyes as she blissfully cherished the moment, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

The young mother was beaming as they finished the song, her radiant face emitting maternal pride like the sun glowing warmly on a Summer day. "How lucky I am to have children as talented as the pair of you," she sweetly confessed, wrapping an arm around each of them and pressing a kiss to their cheeks. Both let out the compulsory groan of complaint which was customary for any young person receiving excessive affection from a parent, though both adored the woman and would never truly resent her kisses.

"Mama, stop!" Angelica whined, wriggling from Eliza's embrace and scampering out of the room, keen to be gone before Philip could challenge her to a reprisal of their competition.

That left her first-born as the single target of her love, and she tightly squeezed him, giggling like a child herself, while he vehemently protested. "Mother, please! I'm - _ugh_ \- I'm a young man!"

Finally satisfied, she released him and took Angelica's vacated place on the stool at his side, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance as she muttered, "fine," and looked away from him, playing at being offended by his rejection, though the glimmer of joy on her lips which she couldn't quell revealed her facade to be just that.

Even so, Philip played along, "Sorry, Mother. I don't really mind your being so _immature_." He sniffed as he feigned disgust, and tilted his head so that his nose was pointed upwards at a particularly snooty angle.

She peeked over her shoulder to look at him and immediately laughed at his youthful humour, tutting and running a hand through his dark curls as she gently scolded, "You're too mischievous." Her warm smile left no doubt that she in fact adored the very thing she criticized, and Philip smiled back.

"Mother, could you help me play?" He asked after a moment's hesitation, always slightly timid of making the request but feeling close enough to her after sharing such heartfelt laughter to ask anyway. She nodded, knowing exactly what he was asking.

She turned to a page in the book which sat on the music stand, then placed her hands on his, guiding them to the correct place. As she watched his fingers and minded that they obey the rules of the sheet, he could focus on the page, gradually improving his ability to read sheet music: it was his one downfall, that he could never absorb the meanings of the dots and scribbles fast enough, hence his need to always change the line. They played it once through together, before Eliza prompted, "Now you." She watched as Philip carefully studied the page, managing to complete the piece after only deviating once or twice. "Good," she congratulated, gazing at her student with unashamed warmth.

Philip sighed, still slightly irked that he lacked the skill he'd seen prevalent in what felt like every other pianist he'd encountered recently. "Mother, are all ladies better at reading music that I am? I mean, you've been playing for forever, so I understand why _you're_ better -"

"I've been playing 'forever'? I'm not that old!" Eliza protested.

"Well, a long time, then. But then there's Angelica, and Theo -"

"Theo?" Eliza queried, immediately curious.

"Theodosia Burr. The younger one," Philip clarified to his mother. "We played piano when I went to visit with Father, and she was so brilliant at reading the sheet music... Although I helped her improve by showing her that it's alright not to follow the sheet sometimes," he added proudly.

"Theodosia told me she was teaching Theo piano last time we spoke," Eliza recalled, thinking aloud. "It's good that the pair of you got along. Perhaps we ought to visit," she mused, narrowing her eyes as she already planned the event in her mind.

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"Elizabeth! I was so pleased to receive your note!" Theodosia exclaimed enthusiastically as she opened the door a few days later to find the younger woman standing on her porch with her eldest son. "And Philip! Little Theodosia's been missing you, I think - Aaron's had to tell her off for talking about you so much!" The host revealed, shaking her head as she recalled her daughter's infatuation with the boy for the days following his visit.

"Well, my son makes quite the impression," Eliza remarked, raising an approving eyebrow and stroking his hair.

"He told me of his ambitions to be like his father but bolder, if I remember correctly," Theodosia explained, earning a chuckle from Eliza:

"I love my husband, but believe me when I tell you that a fragment of his mind is more than enough for a child to carry!"

Theodosia nodded with understanding. "I think all children must be like that at their age - our Theo's just as bad. Anyway, please come in," she invited, stepping aside to allow the guests to pass. She lead them straight through to the room where Philip knew the piano was situated. Sitting at the piano was the girl Philip had hoped to see, her back to the door as she tapped half heartedly at the keys. She turned as she heard the group enter, immediately jumping to her feet and grinning as she recognized the boy.

"Philip! You're back!" She dipped into a curtsey aimed towards Elizabeth as she greeted, "good afternoon, Mrs Hamilton."

"Good afternoon, Miss Burr," Eliza returned, curtseying to the little girl herself as she said, "My Philip tells me you're quite the skilled musician."

Enjoying the mature courtesy the guest was displaying, Theo confided, "I don't just study music; I'm being tutored in arithmetic, French, Greek and Latin too." She knew the vast range of subjects would impress, for it was incredibly rare for a female to have knowledge of multiple languages or mathematics.

As predicted, Eliza nodded her approval and sat on the couch, where Theodosia joined her, and watched their children interact as if it was a spectator sport. Philip displayed much more surprise than his mother to Theo's confession: "You didn't say you were smart," he stated, slightly confused.

"Well, we only met the one time... And I would hope that you realized from talking to me that I at least have _something_ in my head other than empty air!" Theo retorted tartly, causing Philip to chuckle.

"Well, you did seem _quite_ intelligent," he shrugged, not wanting to complement her too enthusiastically and risk not sounding genuine. The reality was that he had realized that she was witty and fairly clever, he just hadn't supposed her education would be as thorough as she said.

"Such flattery," she joked, fanning herself as she pretended to swoon in reaction to his reluctant half-praise. "Oh," she froze mid-fan as she recalled a memory from their last meeting. "While we're talking about brains, your father said you were quite a poet, only, you didn't have time to tell me one before he pulled you away."

"Yes," Philip nodded energetically, causing his mass of unruly hair to bounce wildly, glad to have his favourite subject brought up; he loved all kinds of education, but his favourite by a long way was English. Just like his father, he'd developed a love for words, and enjoyed immensely the great satisfaction he always felt as he crafted a masterpiece with them.

"Well, could I hear some?" Theo suggested.

Philip frowned a moment as he considered the best poem to share. He settled upon one he wrote following his last meeting with the young girl and her namesake, and began to recite the short verse from memory:

"There's a place I know where you can find

Two ladies with the quickest mind,

Impeccable manners to spare their shame,

But curiously, they share one name.

These two women are mother and child,

The daughter is excitable, the mother mild.

But temperamental differences could not shake

The love the maternal bond does make.

And so these ladies with different minds

Are united by fierce affection which blinds

The mortal who sees past their shared name

And finds the sight of love's true flame."

He examined Theo's face intently as soon as he had finished his recital, keen to know her thoughts on the poem about her bond with her mother. He hoped too late that his assumptions which he had only made based upon what he saw during a relatively short meeting were not false.

But luckily the little girl beamed with admiration, touched that Philip had deemed her a worthy subject of his poem. The look allowed Philip to release a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as he sighed with relief.

"That was lovely, Philip," Mrs Burr commented, also impressed by him and honoured to warrant that level of creativity.

He turned to face her with a friendly grin, replying, "Thank you, Mrs Burr."

Elizabeth was simply glowing with maternal pride as she enjoyed the sight of her child soaking up the praise. Keen for him to continue to impress his captive audience, she encouraged, "Perhaps you could play something for us while we ladies enjoy a cup of tea." She winked at little Theodosia as she referred to the "ladies", again making the ten year old feel respected and mature. The girl was quickly growing to like Elizabeth Hamilton almost as much as she liked her son.

Philip nodded and did so, taking a seat at the stool and beginning to play a song he didn't know the name of, but which was so familiar to him that he barely had to concentrate on it. Instead, as a maid brought in a tray bearing a set of delicate china teacups, a kettle of boiled water and a selection of flavoured teas, he focused on the conversation taking place.

"This is mother's most expensive tea," Theo revealed to Eliza, conspiratorially leaning in as though it were a secret guilty pleasure.

"Oh? Well, it's delicious," Eliza commented, sipping tentatively at the hot beverage.

"She won't tell Daddy how much it cost, and she won't tell me either, which I think is ridiculous: what if I need to give her a fancy gift in the future and don't know how much I'd need to buy some of her expensive tea?" The lamenting tone to her voice revealed it was a subject she'd pleaded countless times before to no avail. Nevertheless, it her mother's amiable mood at receiving guests, perhaps she'd be tempted to divulge the information.

With a reluctant sigh, Theodosia decided, "I will tell you if you can work it out from this - although that doesn't mean you can go spending extortionate amounts on tea, mind - It is shipped in from England, where it would cost twelve shillings."

Philip tried to partake in the calculations, struggling to work out the price to impress his new friend.

But Theo needed no assistance as she quickly talked through her calculation: "Last I read, shillings to dollars conversion rates were at a dollar fifty to every one... Along with Mr Hamilton's tea tariff of 50 percent for all dark teas... Mother, that's twenty seven dollars! No wonder you didn't want Daddy to know!" She exclaimed, thoroughly outraged that her mother would waste so much on something as trivial as tea.

Despite his equal surprise, Philip and Eliza both had to admire the speed at which she'd calculated the price.

"Now, don't tell him! Or else you won't be able to drink any of my tea ever again," Theodosia warned, slightly guilty at her extravagant spending. Her eyes shone with the mischief of a child caught in the pantry as she implored the child to keep her secret. Turning to Eliza, she defended, "I know I shouldn't... But I do savour it, I promise!"

Elizabeth replied with amusement, "Don't apologise to me... It seems your tea habit is making my Alexander's taxes successful!"

Theodosia chuckled at that, ignoring her blush as she instead enjoyed the good company.

Philip's song was reaching its conclusion, and he brought the piece to an end gracefully, combining his own intricate melody to finish.

"Well done, Philip," Theo remarked as he turned around to face the women.

"If only he could play the same thing every time," Eliza sighed, still with a fond smile at her undeniably talented son. "Clever as he is, he changes the melody every time, and that means we don't always know what he's playing!"

"I'd have to disagree; I think it's wonderful that he can play his own unique music," Theodosia kindly encouraged.

"Me too," Theo added, smiling at Philip as she said so.

"Am I allowed some tea now?" Philip interrupted, more concerned about tasting the liquid gold than debating his skills. Theo poured him a cup and passed it to him, earning a proud smile from her watching mother as she admired the ladylike formality the little girl adopted. However, as he sipped his drink, Theodosia suddenly became a pallid grey, and her eyes glazed with a sudden twist of discomfort.

As she spoke, her formerly confident voice trembled, a result of her pain and her fear that she knew exactly what caused her sudden bout of sickness. "Mrs Hamilton... I feel suddenly ill, would you help me to my bed?"

"Of course," Eliza immediately agreed, wrapping a supporting arm around the older woman and allowing her ailing friend to lean her body, which only at that moment she noticed was thin and wispy, against her own and leading her from the room. Both children looked on in confused worry.

A few seconds of silence passed before Philip asked, "Will she be alright?"

Eyes pools of fearful consternation, Theodosia replied, "I have no idea. She keeps becoming suddenly too sick to move, and a doctor comes to see her every week... They won't tell me what's wrong!" She fretted, clinging to Philip's sleeve suddenly as her terror for her mother took hold of her. He didn't know what to say to comfort her, all he could do was gently hug her as she began to shiver slightly, rubbing her back soothingly as he murmured empty reassurance into her ears.

That was the scene Eliza saw as she returned downstairs, having settled the hostess in her bed. Her brow was creased with concern for the woman upstairs, and a tear threatened to fall as she considered the possibility of Theodosia never recovering. She quickly wiped it away as she saw the little girl in such a state: she needed to be an adult, which meant putting on a brave face for little Theo's sake.

"Thank you for having us, Miss Burr, but we'll be leaving now so that your mother has a quiet house to rest," she explained as Theo shifted from Philip's embrace.

"Yes, Mrs Hamilton."

As an afterthought, Eliza added, "We might not be returning for some time... We'll give your mother all the space she needs to recover without concerning herself about guests."

"Yes, Mrs Hamilton," Theo agreed, casting a disappointed glance to Philip as she realized she wouldn't see him again for some time.

Philip noticed the brief look of regret, and desperate to offer any consolation at all to the girl, he promised, "I'll write to you. We _are_ friends, after all."

The girl forced a smile of gratitude as she nodded her agreement. "Thank you, Philip." She walked them to the door, all three disheartened by the alarming turn the afternoon had taken. As much as the children looked forward to building their friendship through exchanging letters, it was heavily subdued by the ominous fears they held for Theodosia Burr.


	3. Chapter 3 - I'm at your service

**A/N WHY IS THIS CHAPTER SO LONG? I AM NOWT BUT A SIMPLE THING! (And I am well aware I suck at writing poetry...) Sorry this was a while coming! Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Chapter 3 - Winter 1793

 _Dear Theodosia,_

 _At last I put my pen to paper and write your name. How are you? I hope your mother feels better. I wish I could visit you to see for myself and to talk with you in person - after all, I can hardly play piano for you through writing! I was sad to leave so soon when I last visited, but I think it's for the best that your house stays calm while your mother feels unwell. Oh, and my father gave me this riddle, let me know your answer: What can you only keep once you have given it? Here's a clue: I gave mine to you, and I keep it now! And remember, no cheating!_

 _Your friend,_

 _Philip Hamilton._

* * *

 _Dear Philip,_

 _Thank you for keeping your word by writing to me. That is the answer to your riddle, isn't it? You can only keep your word once you have given it! You've brought a smile to my face, but it's the first in some time. Mother seems to be feeling worse, some days she cannot even leave her bed. She joked that her rich tea has taken its toll on her after all this time, but Father didn't laugh. And neither will tell me what's wrong, but I can't help feeling it's something terrible. But I should stay hopeful, I know that. I hope you are well, I'm sorry if my worries make this a dull letter to read._

 _Your friend,_

 _Theodosia Burr._

* * *

 _Dear Theodosia,_

 _You are right, of course, about everything - in fact, I consider you to be one of the most intelligent women I've ever met. So for that reason, I congratulate your correct answer to my riddle, but I also encourage you to remain optimistic. As far as I could tell, your mother is a strong woman, and I'm sure she'll feel better soon. Your letter was not dull, but it was melancholy, so I thought to include a poem to lift your spirits. I feel it is suitable for this time of year!_

 _When the leaves have fallen away_

 _And sunlight barely graces the day,_

 _And innocent snowflakes litter a sky_

 _Barren of birds, who to the south fly,_

 _That is when the wintry claw_

 _Of icy chill knocks at your door._

 _But through the cold, and the frozen storm_

 _I pledge my friendship will keep you warm._

 _So let the leaves fall without a fear_

 _Because soon enough, Spring will be here._

 _And sure as the seasons change day by day,_

 _Your friend I know I will always stay._

All the best to you and your family.

 _Your friend,_

 _Philip Hamilton._

* * *

Even as he wrote, the words of comfort would not resonate within him with the kind of confidence and truth he wished they would. He didn't know much about Mrs Burr's condition, but it seemed to have worsened considerably since he last saw her. And then, he recalled that even when they first met, she had appeared unusually tired, with a concerning hollow appearance to her face. He folded the letter and slid it into an envelope without amending his doubtful words - no good could come from worrying Theo when he knew next to nothing of the situation. But even the biting winter chill battering his face as he ventured into town to the post office could not distract him from the nagging doubts regarding the kindly woman. He didn't know her exactly age, only that Burr was a few years older than his father, and Mrs Burr was ten years older than her husband. That made her around 50, an age when the health of many people faltered. Perhaps he was over-thinking something which didn't hold anything more ominous than a slight cold which might soon disappear, yet surely there was no harm in asking his parents on their opinions: Elizabeth had seen for herself how Theodosia had taken a sudden turn for the worse on their last visit, and he knew his father still retained some medical knowledge from the short period of time when he trained as a doctor years ago, when he still aimed to return to the Caribbean, before he realized American politics was his preferred profession.

It was late in the evening, so both were in their bedroom, and through the small opening of the door, he observed the scene inside: his mother sitting in bed cradling her youngest child, the one-year-old John Church Hamilton, talking loudly to the baby who was beyond understanding with the intention of disrupting her husband as he wrote aggressively at the small desk beside the bed.

"You're growing up so quickly, aren't you? Yes, I think you'll slip through our fingers just as quickly as your siblings." Glancing intently towards Alexander's turned back, she commented, "I'd hate for anyone to miss seeing your childhood."

Not sparing a second from scribbling, Hamilton reluctantly reassured her, "I'm not missing anything. I'm here, listening to my wife talking to my son, and I'll be right there at your side when I've finished this paper."

"And when will that be?" Eliza asked, sighing and shaking her head as she regarded him with an affectionate smile.

"Soon, my love. I promise."

Philip knocked on the slightly ajar door to make himself known. "Mother? Daddy, can I talk to you?"

The request from his eldest child was enough to achieve what Eliza's pleas had failed to - Alexander set down his quill, concerned by the hesitation in Philip's usually confident voice, and invited, "Come in, son."

The young boy entered the room and perched on the foot of the bed, staring at his hands, which were fidgeting restlessly in his lap. "I've been writing to Theo," he explained after a moment of patient silence, "and I'm worried about her mother. She seems to be getting worse - shouldn't she be better by now?"

Alexander had turned around to face his son, giving his predicament his undivided attention. He glanced to Eliza, who quickly shook her head, confirming an unspoken question. He leaned forward to hold Philip by the shoulders, looking into his eyes as he answered, "Mrs Burr is very sick. Your mother told me how she was during your visit, and I have heard from Burr that her situation is rather... precarious."

His face fell, and his eyes begged for comfort as he asked, "Will she get better?"

Alexander hated to deny his son the reassurance his cheerful heart needed, but he knew the perceptive young man would see through any false claims he offered. His pause to select his words was enough to make Philip panic, and he looked frantically to Eliza, needing an answer at once. The mother patted the bed beside her, beckoning him to join her. Philip clambered towards her and sat next to her, looking at her with wide eyed fear. She smiled sadly at him as she admitted, "Many people who experience Mrs Burr's illness do not recover. But we must remember that she has a family who love her and all the medical care money can buy. So stay hopeful, my love, and remind little Theodosia that her mother is in the best possible position for someone with her condition." The ran a loving hand through his curls, admiring her child as she praised, "You're such a caring young man." She pressed a kiss to his head, a token of comfort as well as affection, and in his consternation he didn't complain.

Alexander added, "There is nothing you can do for her but keep her in your prayers." Never mind that he didn't believe in God. His son did, and at least it would help him to feel something other than powerless.

An idea struck Philip, and as a flame of hope returned, his eyes lit up with excitement as he suggested, "Perhaps I could go and play piano for her? She always enjoyed it, and it might lift her spirits!"

His parents gazed at him with matching pride, glad that they had raised a boy as thoughtful as Philip. "That's a lovely idea," Eliza approved, smiling happily, pleased by the thought. "Your father can ask Mr Burr when a good time for you to visit will be at work tomorrow." She looked purposefully towards Alexander, encouraging him to agree.

"Yes, I suppose I can talk to that infernal man if it will make my son happy," he sighed, too threatened by his wife's determination for the visit to take place for him to protest talking to Burr. Philip immediately grinned, and Alexander decided it was worth wasting his breath on the man if it brought so much joy to his son. "Now, you ought to be going to bed," he insisted, quickly quelling Philip's happiness.

Even so, the boy retreated, with a quick "Goodnight," and returned to his bedroom. He was reassured by the hope that he'd soon be able to see both Theodosias again, and dared to think that his playing piano would be uplifting enough to jolt healing mechanisms within the older woman into action. _Whether it helps or not, I'm determined to try_ , he decided firmly.

* * *

Hamilton had to grit his teeth as he approached the office which had once belonged to his father in law. It still stung that Burr had stolen the position of New York senator from Philip Schuyler, even two years on from the original struggle for power. But as he recalled the purpose of this visit was to be peaceful for the sake of his son, he swallowed his revived frustration and knocked upon the door. Faint, slow footsteps from the other side warned of his approach, and then the door was swinging open to reveal Aaron Burr himself, shoulders slumped, eyes tired and laced with defeat. His mouth was set in what looked to be an immovable line of sadness, Yet when he saw the other man, he somehow mustered his typical smile as he greeted him amicably.

"Alexander."

"Senator Burr, _sir_."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Burr asked, maintaining the smile despite being warily cautious of anything which warranted an unexpected visit from the man he _knew_ was repulsed by his approach to politics.

Alexander remained as succinct and clear as possible as he explained, "My son is worried about your wife, and he would very much like to visit to play piano for her."

The smile melted away as easily as any non genuine emotion does, and was replaced by a crease in his brow as he replied, "It is a kind offer, but my daughter provides music enough to our home, without your son needing to visit."

Too quickly, Hamilton replied, "Philip plays piano better."

Any challenge to the skills of his single beloved daughter instantly struck Burr as a personal insult, sharp as a dagger, and he abandoned all pretence at civility as he argued, "I highly doubt that, Theodosia's piano skills are a credit to her mother, who taught her all she knows. Are you seriously trying to persuade me that my wife would prefer Philip to play for her than _her own child?"_

Hamilton had never been able to back down from fighting his case, both as a lawyer and as a politician. There was undeniable logic in Burr's words, but there was a fiercely determined paternal dedication in Hamilton's as he answered, "Philip is desperate for any chance to do something kind for your ailing wife, and I see no reason for you to refuse him! Regardless of your thoughts for me, a young boy offering to play for her is nothing to be sneered at, however talented Theodosia might be - and, as it happens, I have it on good authority that Philip is at least as talented as her, if not better!"

Fear for his love making him much less reserved than he always aspired to be, Burr replied with equal fervour, both revealing his darkest concerns and taking a stand as the guardian of his sick wife at once. "Surely even _you_ aren't blind to the fact that Theodosia is too sick to host guests! She will never recover, Alexander, I doubt she'll live to see the spring. So excuse me for being averse to placing unnecessary stress on her fragile shoulders by inviting anyone but her family and her doctors into our house, and excuse me for being selfish by striving to keep my wife as _mine_ in her final months. She is a dying woman, but she is not a spectacle to become the subject of a schoolboy's gossip!"

The heated retort was wholly unexpected, and Alexander was incredulous as he answered, "If what you say of her condition is true, Philip would never gossip about her! He is an honourable young man with an abundance of respect and concern for Mrs Burr. He doesn't know what is wrong with her, in fact it seems not even your own daughter knows, so I think it's perfectly reasonable to be curious. Nevertheless, that curiosity does not constitute anything like offensive gossip!"

Burr closed his eyes, collecting himself as the regret from his small indiscreet outburst set in, and took a deep breath. Hamilton's words had reminded him of precisely the thing which was killing her, and the sadness of recalling the nature of Theodosia's illness destroyed his anger. When he opened his eyes again, there was only mournful sorrow. "If you must know, it's stomach cancer. Please don't do anything to let my daughter find out."

Hamilton had thought - or rather, hoped - Burr's predictions of imminent death had been exaggerations. But he now knew they were, in fact, correct. He was rendered speechless, unsure what could possibly be said to someone unavoidably fated to be a widow in not too long at all. He swallowed, and nodded in compliance with Burr's request. _Don't do anything to let my daughter find out - by which he means don't tell Philip. He'd tell her, they tell each other everything._ It was a fair thing to ask, especially when he had divulged such personal and harrowing information. At least by keeping the truth from the little girl, she would not need to discover the extent of Theodosia's suffering.

Doing nothing to acknowledge Alexander's agreement, Burr closed the door on him, unable to look into the probing eyes of a man intent on interrupting the precious time he had left with his wife. And, with the door closed, he was free to let the tears of despair fall.

* * *

That evening, once the doctors had left the couple alone in their bedroom, Aaron Burr sat on his bed beside Theodosia, looking almost as exhausted as she was as she leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Their daughter had crept down the hall to visit her mother, but before she knocked on the door, she paused. Eavesdropping was not something she was prone to do, yet her complete lack of knowledge compelled her to loiter outside, peering through the tiny opening of the bedroom door and listening to what was said.

Burr let out a long sigh filled with all the day's trials and complications. Both halves of the couple had tears in their eyes in response to what the doctors had told them: confirmation of the fact that Theodosia could not be healthy again. The news they already knew stirred up a conversation they'd already had many times before.

"I want to be here for you for as long as we have left together. Every minute, every single second." Burr insisted, almost pleading with her.

She looked up at him as she explained, "Aaron, you can't. You have your work." Her matter-of-fact words seemed to leave no room for debate, nevertheless her husband couldn't help but argue.

He spoke with disbelief as he asked, "Do you really think that matters more to me than you do? I'd throw it all away for you."

"I know that, but that doesn't mean you should!" She was adamant he didn't waste the career she'd supported him in forging for her sake: she was proud of him, and she would not tolerate the guilt of allowing him to quit simply to sit beside her and watch her deteriorate, powerless to help.

"When you're gone -"

 _Gone_? The word seemed to ring with dreadful finality. It was only then that Theo realized exactly how sick her mother was.

"When I'm gone, I want to know I'm not leaving behind a family on the brink of destitution. And until then, I want you to keep making me proud." She interrupted with the definite statement. She would not be moved - however weak her body became, her will continued to be solid iron.

Burr tossed his head back, submitting reluctantly to Theodosia's demand. He could never defy her when she was so determined, so he had to sacrifice his own wishes for her sake. "Fine."

They sat in silence for a while, Theodosia leaning comfortably into Burr's chest and listening to his heart. She worried about how he'd cope when she passed more than she worried about herself, how he would manage to raise a little girl on his own. That was why both of them had agreed to tell the girl as little as possible. She would hate to see her daughter eaten alive by the same dread which had seized her husband. He was quieter recently, made so by the melancholy pensive mist which clung to him when he thought of her passing.

"What's on your mind?" His wife asked, concerned for him somehow when her own sickness should have consumed her full capacity for worry.

He smiled sadly at her eternal selfless attitude to him. "Nothing worth bothering you over."

She pushed herself from his arms and straightened her spine to give him a look he couldn't argue with as she pointed out, "I _want_ to know all that worries you. Not knowing worries me too much, you know that."

He shook his head fondly, and admitted, "Hamilton came to see me today. He says Philip wants to visit and play piano for you. I refused, naturally."

She frowned, confused and slightly irritated as she asked, "Why did you do that?"

Equally puzzled by her reaction, he justified, "You're not fit to receive guests."

"I'm as fit as I'll ever be again!" She argued, thoroughly annoyed at being robbed of the chance to hear the boy play.

"I know that. But I don't want that family intruding and stealing even a moment of the little time you have left!" He replied emphatically, taking her hands between his and leaning closer to her, gazing into her soulful eyes as he begged her to agree with his views. Truly, she was too tired to continue debating, and fell into his arms, closing her eyes. She was dissatisfied, but she hated arguing with Aaron at the best of times, and now it was even more crucial to set aside any disagreements.

All that she had heard overwhelmed the little girl hidden outside the room. Her mother was bound to die, and she felt unadulterated terror at the prospect of losing her. Too much terror to confide in Philip, who had been mentioned. The discovery of Theodosia's fatal illness had made it hard to focus on the whole conversation, but hadn't her father mentioned her friend wanted to visit? And he had refused. But Theo _needed_ a friend - she couldn't burden her parents with her own apprehension. And even if she couldn't bring herself to write the true extent of Theodosia's condition, she could talk to him. _I can help him find a way to come here,_ she decided, and turned away from the door, going to her own bedroom to write a short, urgent letter.

* * *

 _Dear Philip,_

 _I heard from my father that you wanted to visit us. He was averse to the idea, but mother and I, on the other hand, would love you to attend. I would suggest you come tomorrow evening, because my father has a meeting and will not be home. Still, to prevent any servants uncovering your visit, I recommend you come around to the back of the house, where I can let you in through the library window. I will be waiting at 8 o'clock._

 _Your friend,_

 _Theodosia Burr._

* * *

He hadn't expected Theo to be able to conjure so furtive a plan. Nevertheless, as soon as he received the note, he knew he had to comply. So, with Angelica agreeing to provide some excuse for him, he had slipped away from his house under the cover of darkness and now walked along the side of the Burr family home. Doing as Theodosia had instructed, he waited in the shadows for the church bell to toll 8 times. Almost immediately, a large window was unlatched and pushed open. He dashed over to it, adrenaline completely overriding nerves, and clambered through, to find his friend on the other side.

"Philip, you came!" She exclaimed, her excitement at seeing him removing her perpetual concern for a moment, and she hugged him tightly, barely giving him a second to catch his breath from the run across the garden before she squeezed it from him again with a giggle. Philip gladly returned the hug, chuckling at her enthusiasm and grinning with his own anticipation.

"So this is what you pulled me out of bed for?" A voice from the door asked, warm and scolding at once as she asked, "I'm surprised Elizabeth allowed her son to wander the streets alone at night - unless perhaps she is unaware of your absence?"

The boy released her daughter and bashfully explained, "I didn't want my parents to stop me, so I didn't tell anyone but my sister."

"Mother, he wanted to play piano for you, to make you feel better," the girl defended, rushing to her mother and taking her hands, her wide, dark eyes pleading for the woman to keep their secret.

Theodosia could hardly refuse her daughter when she had only intended to help. And she was deeply moved by the young boy who had risked a scolding from his parents to play piano for her when he knew she admired his playing. So she nodded, smiling as she agreed, "Just one song."

She had strength enough to walk unaided to the next room, and the children followed after her, scampering eagerly like hyperactive puppies, so relieved that their plan had worked. But as he sat at the piano stool, a heavy weight overcame Philip, and he felt all the responsibility of the moment: this could be the last thing he ever did for the woman who'd shown him warmth and kindness despite her husband's rivalry with his father. He had quickly grown fond of her, and her daughter, and this was his chance to show her, to give her something to comfort her as she lay ill in bed. So he composed himself, and with a deep breath, began to play: he acknowledged no sheet, but created completely his own melody, a soaring, bittersweet piece, a true reflection of his hopes that the woman would recover tempered with the knowledge that such a thing was unlikely. When he was finished, there was complete silence from both women, and he turned to face them, suddenly afraid that his complete improvisation had failed to impress at all.

But both were beaming with joy, and he released a breath he didn't realize he had still been holding. There were insufficient words for Theodosia Burr to describe her gratitude, or relate quite how humbling she found the piece. But she murmured a soft, "Thank you," needing to say _something_ even if it didn't do justice at all to all she felt in that moment.

Philip stood and bowed slightly to her as he replied, "You're welcome, Mrs Burr. And now I think I should be getting home, before my parents notice I'm gone."

"Yes. Quite right," she answered, her voice tight as she struggled not to cry. Suddenly she fully understood that she was dying, irreversibly burdened with a terminal illness. She felt genuinely heartbroken that she was leaving behind her little girl, and immeasurably guilty that this little boy's song did not have the magical healing powers the children had dared to think it might. She wouldn't be seen to lose face in front of them, however. There was nothing to do but find a mask of bravery so as to not alarm the children. "Goodbye, Philip."

"Goodbye, Ma'am."

Theo and Philip left the woman alone while the girl accompanied her friend to the exit - that is, the window he had crawled through. Before he left, she thanked him herself, "I'm so glad you came. She loved that so much."

Grinning, he offered, "I'll happily come back. I can play for her whenever she wants, and maybe it will help her feel better!"

Theo longed to tell him what she'd overheard: her mother would never get better. She would soon depart the earth because of her illness, leaving her alone with her father. But her chest ached as soon as her mind even glanced across the words. She could not force her mouth to form them, her terror rendered her unable to confide in her best friend, as much as she wanted to. So instead, she did what he'd father never failed to do. Flashed a smile, nodded, agreed. Philip left.

Theo closed the window after him and leaned against a heavily laden bookshelf, feeling somehow guilty about neglecting to warn Philip of the situation. Her self-pity was short lived, however, because it was interrupted by a loud gasp of agony from the next room...


	4. Chapter 4 - A flame which flickers out

**A/N: so I mean you can probably tell what's coming... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make her awesome then do this to her, but that's just how it goes! :s little Theo comes across pretty helpless here, but don't worry, she'll have her time to shine later, I promise!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hamilton in any way! But I wish I did!**

* * *

Chapter 4 - Winter 1794

Theo had sworn to write to Philip, and it was something she loved to do - she had quickly grown to value her friendship with the Hamilton boy far more than any others, and he was one of her most trusted confidants, her best friend, the boy who could always raise a smile with his words or chase away her fears with a song. But as she discovered, it is difficult to find the motivation even to open your eyes of a morning and lift yourself from your bed in spite of your father's limitless coaxing and comforting, much less pick up a pen and write an amiable letter to your friend when your mother has just died.

It was to be expected, of course. As soon as Theo heard the cry of pain, just after Philip bid her goodbye following his secret visit, she'd ran to her mother to see her clutching her stomach and shaking uncontrollably. She'd managed to guide her back to her bed, supporting most of her weight - not that it amounted to much - on her young shoulders.

Her father returned an hour later, but there was nothing he nor any doctor could do to alter her miserable fate. Three days of aggressive fever, shaking and sweating later, Theodosia had faded away, her breath too-soon expiring her body like a flame sputtering out, a final gasp of her daughter's name punctuating her exit from the earth before she fell into perpetual silence.

Since the moment he met his bride, Aaron Burr knew she was already a target of the affliction which eventually tore her from him, but over a decade of warning could not prepare him for the heart shattering agony her loss would inflict upon him. But almost as awful as the torture of seeing his beloved Theodosia simply cease to exist before his eyes was the way the deep slash in his spirit was constantly ripped open every time he laid eyes on their one child. The idea of leaving her bedroom was not one she wanted to entertain, and hiding from all the happiness in the outside world so as to mourn privately was a far more appealing option. Only her father was brave enough to disturb her anguished solitude, and when he did so, she tried as best she could to do as she'd seen both parents demonstrate with ease, to paint on a smile and conceal her emotions behind a mask of calm, a barrier from the ocean of sorrow plaguing her mind. It wasn't that she wanted to lock him out of her internal suffering, instead she didn't want to worsen his struggles by adding the choking weight of her own. But looking into her eyes had the power to crush him, because they betrayed the deepest of shadows, the haunting, blank look of one who has lost everything and can no longer see for the lack of light in their life.

Just like her father's eyes.

He did all he could to comfort her, holding her for hours while he sobbed for their loss, meanwhile she stayed stiff in his arms, afraid to fall apart in front of him for fear it would destroy what little shred of hope he had left. But she didn't realize that determination to hide, to shut him out from the sorrow so blatantly abundant in her eyes, only made the pain worse, a twist of the knife already lodged firmly in his gut:

It was a bleak reminder to him that he alone had to raise this little girl, the young lady with her mother's intelligence and fire who had once had such a wonderful figure to guide her along the way.

And he didn't know how to cope.

* * *

The silence left Philip worried, naturally. But he didn't think too much of it until he saw the newspaper.

The boy with his father's adoration of reading always took at least an hour poring over a newspaper every day, examining all the political motions Hamilton and his colleagues were involved in, always eager to peruse any text relating to the career he one day hoped to take part in. He always read it front to back, reading every single word on every single page. But his reading was brought to a sharp halt before he could finish when he read the obituary. Often, he scanned over it, only vaguely curious if he recognized any of the names of distant friends of his mother or enemies of his father. Never had any of the names meant much to him before he saw one which made his heart plummet, punching a hole in his stomach as it fell:

Theodosia Burr.

He didn't notice he was crying until a tear splashed onto the page, immediately soaking into the paper and obscuring whatever insignificant letters it fell upon, reducing them to an illegible blur of ink. Frustrated, he wiped his eyes fiercely, annoyed that he should cry when he had lost - what? His mother's friend? His friend's mother? What did that compare to the inconceivable loss of a parent? His mind flew to Theo, wondering immediately how she could bear to even breathe through the pain. It would explain her silence, he realized, which triggered even more concerns for her: _is she too distraught to do anything at all? If so, how long will it be before she can hear the name they shared without bursting into tears? Will she ever be alright?_

More than anything, he longed to see her, to be there for her to do anything he could, even if it consisted of a grand total of nothing at all, to alleviate her suffering. But who was he to interrupt her privacy? _If she wanted my company, surely she would have written,_ he decided, resigning himself to await some invitation.

But he knew when, or if, it came, he would seize the chance to be at her side at once, regardless of any obstacle. He practically ached to see her, to hug her and cry with her and try to make her laugh. But he couldn't - at least, not yet.

* * *

He knocked softly on her door before he entered, giving the child the customary few seconds it took to mop her tears and pretend she hadn't been sobbing uncontrollably. When Burr opened the door, Theo was sitting in bed, eyes bloodshot and obviously only recently dried, but they _were_ dry nonetheless.

"Daddy," she greeted, unable to find any words but his name to say as he came to sit on the end of her bed. Still she managed a smile, hoping it would do something to falsely convince her father that she was managing.

Much as he hated her presenting him with a facade, he did exactly the same - just like Theodosia had tried to ensure the girl didn't see her death coming, he wanted to hide his personal struggle from her now his wife was gone to offer her the same reassurance she attempted to provide him with. When he was about to ask something so trying of her, letting her witness his personal torment was not likely to persuade her.

"Theodosia... I hoped you would come into town with me," he invited, carefully avoiding specifying exactly why. The words he still needed to say stung as soon as his mind even considered them, and he was in no rush to release them to have a similar effect on his daughter unless she demanded to know them.

Of course, she did. "I don't much feel like going. Why did you want me to?" Her voice was defeated in spite of her quickly wilting smile, but it was stronger than Burr would have expected. _She's brave, she'll be alright again,_ he decided, his smile becoming genuine in spite of his continued sorrow as for the first time since Theodosia's passing he thought of the future - he realized they actually _had_ a future.

His own courage replenished, he restrained himself from flinching as he explained, "I thought you would like to have some say in the funeral arrangements."

Her eyes widened, and glazed with tears which she frantically blinked away as soon as she realized they existed. But for once, Aaron was not content to let her try to stay stoic when they were both feeling such anguish; it was his place to be her rock in the centre of this storm, not hers.

He reached for her and held her shoulders, gazing into her eyes, the identical copies of his own, as he pleaded, "Please, Theo... It's okay to cry."

That was all the prompting she needed to let the tears fall, for the first time allowing her father to see her pain. The thoughts of burying her mother had finally driven her to need him there to support her, and she fell against his chest, her sharp sobs causing her entire body to shudder. But Aaron held her securely, his silent tears falling but maintaining his sturdy stance even so: His little girl was letting him in. From that point onwards, he would not let her down. Everything he did would be for her, including shoving the true extent of his own crippling sorrow aside in order to quite literally be her shoulder to cry on.

They stayed like that for some time, not that either was keeping track. But when Theodosia disentangled herself from Burr's embrace, her tears had stopped naturally for the first time, instead of being harshly swiped from her face, unwanted marks of sorrow damaging her attempt to appear calm. Now there was no pretence at normality, but there was relief. Her father had given comfort she could not have predicted, and she managed a timid but heartfelt smile as she nodded. "I'd like to come, please."

Burr grinned, tears still glimmering in his eyes but thankful beyond description that he'd gotten through to his daughter. "I'll leave you to get dressed."

He stood, pausing before he left to press a kiss to the girl's forehead. As he left the room, his shoulders felt lighter, as if a huge burden had been lifted. _Perhaps we'll manage without you, my love. Not as well as if you were here, of course not, but we'll cope. I'll make sure of it._

* * *

Later in town, people would struggle to recognize the father and daughter as they walked through the bustling city, looking straight ahead as though they didn't even see the crowds of people milling about and cheerfully seeing to their business. The constantly cool politician and his cheerful daughter, a pair which so often graced the streets, were replaced with two tired figures tightly clinging to each other's hands as they drifted among the living, for all the world looking like they would fit better among the dead. But the boy who had ventured into town to arrange for some condolence flowers to be sent to their home would have recognized them anywhere.

Without even thinking about it, he called out, "Theo!"

The Burrs both halted immediately, before turning around to see the young boy bounding towards them. "Philip," the name caught in her throat, sounding more like a cough than an actual greeting.

"Theo, I heard, I..." He noticed her eyes immediately flood with a new wave of tears, and murmured, far softer, "I'm so sorry."

She didn't try to compose herself, because he was her friend - he was allowed to see her at her weakest. She closed her eyes, and he stepped closer to hug her, squeezing her as though by holding her close enough he might somehow pass some of his strength into her. She wrapped her arms around him too, releasing Burr's hand as she did so, relieved to be seeing him again. She didn't regret not writing to him, but she was immensely glad that it hadn't taken long enough for her to want to write for her to be in contact with him once more.

When they stepped apart, Theodosia managed a small, sweet smile as she replied, "Thank you."

For reasons he couldn't identify, that infuriated Burr. Oblivious to the fact that his daughter had only tried to conceal her pain from him to protect him from seeing even more suffering, all he saw was Alexander Hamilton's boy achieving within thirty seconds what had taken him days. He had always been a dutiful father, supporting his child in any way she required. But in his sensitive state and overwhelming need to care for her through the bleakest of times, he felt excessively envious of the boy she seemingly trusted more than her own father.

"Philip, we're rather busy. We must be going," he excused them sharply from his presence, taking Theo's hand once more and starting to lead her away.

"But sir, it seems so long since we last spoke!" He protested, determined that she should not be taken from him so soon, before he could even exchange more than a single sentence with her.

Of course, Burr was unaware of the recent unsolicited visit, but despite his belief that they had not laid eyes on one another for months, his will was immovable. "There's a good reason for that which you are clearly aware of," Burr replied sternly. "And there's a good reason we are leaving." With that, he turned on his heels, his daughter unwilling to argue and cause a scene when she already felt as though a million eyes were upon her. So she followed, only casting an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd.

It was then that Philip decided he would deliver the flowers he had set out to purchase in person.

* * *

He was doubtful that a man who refused to entertain his attempt to talk to Theodosia for more than a moment would be any more accepting of him visiting the house. And since he doubted Burr would leave for a meeting as he had done the last time Philip visited, the young man decided the only possible way he would be successful in his attempt to visit his friend was to use some way in other than the front door. At least, that's what he preferred to refer to it as, opposed to actually admitting that he was intending to sneak in under the cover of near-darkness. On the other hand, carrying a large bunch of flowers made him feel a lot more justified than had he come empty handed.

The only way he knew was through the library window, as on his last visit, and fortunately for him the old window frame allowed his small fingers to just manage to grasp the edges of the opening panel and hook around it. He tugged it firmly, sending it swinging open without too much trouble, and dropped onto the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

It was only once he had entered the house that he realized he was clueless as to where Theodosia might be, and potentially even more perilously, he had no idea where Burr might be lurking. But he recalled he had never seen the man enter the piano room, while every visit to the place had led him there. He resolved to make his way to the one place he knew Theodosia to frequent.

He peered furtively into the corridor before hurrying along it, scanning for any sign of servant or master approaching. Finding it empty, he rushed into the room with which he was most familiar, forgetting to consider the possibility of the room itself being occupied.

Theo turned around from where she sat at the piano stool slowly, expecting her father to be the one waiting at the door. But she drew a sharp breath as she recognized the short, youthful figure of her friend instead, caught completely unaware. After a moment of shock, she composed herself enough to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you these, to let you know I'm thinking of you and your family." He held out the flowers at arms length, suddenly acutely aware of the way he was intruding after physically barging his way into the place. Unwilling to make any other movement without an invitation, as much as he wanted to re-assume their earlier embrace, he didn't dare come any closer in case she rejected his visit completely.

After a brief hesitation, she stepped forward and took them from his hands. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you," Theo murmured.

Though he'd argued against their conversation being cut short previously in town, it seemed that now they had the time he'd so longed for, words failed him. Silence ensued. Finally, Philip broke it, asking, "How are you?" He didn't exactly expect a positive answer, but at least by asking he was expressing an interest in knowing.

Predictably, Theodosia took a few seconds to compose her careful words. She struggled to meet his eyes as she explained, "I wanted to do something for her. I thought I could play piano to honour her memory, only I can't think of a single song which seems fitting."

Her face appeared so dejected that Philip felt a sharp pain in his gut, which compelled him to make a suggestion to ease her sorrow: "Might I try?"

She glanced up swiftly, at first confused by the offer - why should he care so much? But then she smiled a tearful grin as she realized it made perfect sense: had he not already braved the scolding of his life to play for Theodosia in her final days? He had demonstrated unprecedented kindness and compassion then, it made sense that he should continue to do so now. She nodded, too emotional to talk, and he advanced further into the room, coming to sit on the stool Theo had just vacated. He pondered for a heartbeat where to begin, then decided:

He brought his hands to the keys and played, allowing his fingers to flow independently across the ivories, unrestrained by anything as tedious as thought or logic, crafting their mournful tune of their own accord. It seemed an appropriate tribute to a woman who had encouraged his individuality, and it was all the more soulful from the occasional stumbling of hands playing an unplanned song.

By the time he quieted, Theodosia had slipped onto the stool beside him and leaned on his shoulder, tired by her venture into town and drained from the beautifully heartbreaking melody her friend had given to her.

Philip knew without her stating that it was so that her gratitude in that moment was beyond words, even if she _had_ been capable of forming a sentence through her tears. He simply placed an arm around her, holding her to his chest and allowing his own grief to manifest in the tears which rolled down his cheeks.

The soothing thud of his pulse was strangely therapeutic to Theo, and she managed to quell the floods which streamed down her face after a few minutes of peace listening only to the heartbeat. She sniffed and wiped the salty streaks away, prompting Philip to do the same as she sat up straight again. She swallowed the remaining thick feeling of sorrow which seemed to grasp her neck in a constricting grip, and managed to speak. "Philip, you don't know how much I appreciate all you've done."

"You don't have to thank me -"

"But," she continued as though he hadn't even spoken during her brief pause, "I think I would like to have a while to myself, to grieve with my father." She couldn't quite explain the powerful need to hold on to the little family she had left in the wake of Theodosia's death, but she trusted him to respect her choice without needing to defend herself.

He nodded without hesitation, steadfastly keeping to the promise he made to himself to do anything she asked of him. He was certain it was nothing personal against him, else he would've been chased from the house as soon as she saw him. It was plainly one of the sad side effects of losing one to whom your heart is so tightly tied. "Of course."

"Thank you," she replied, making herself smile to compensate for the lack of words.

"I can leave," Philip offered, when she made no verbal request.

Theo nodded, and walked back to the window she'd instantly assumed he'd used to enter. She opened it, and he clambered out, stopping before leaving the grounds to assure her of his lasting friendship. "I won't come to you, and I won't write. Take all the time you need, and know that I'll be waiting and thinking of you just as fondly as I always have."

With that, he turned away, jogging away into the night, keen to be far from the house before anyone else noticed his presence, or the lack of it at home. Watching him leave, Theo felt a curious peace settle on her; she didn't know when she'd feel like being young again, able to play and tease with the considerate young man. But at least she knew she had all the time she needed to come to terms with her mother's passing, free from any pressure to rush through her grief. _Time is such a blessing,_ she reflected. _And God knows it will take a long time to mourn someone like her._


	5. Chapter 5 - You'll blow us all away

**A/N: New chapter! The last with them as tiny preteens! Hope you enjoy this, there are mentions of a couple books I've never read and have no clue about, I only know that Princeton applicants like Burr had to know some Roman guy named Virgil's poetry, hence that book, and he and Theodosia senior were apparently fans of Mary Wollstonecraft's books, so there's that one too. Side note: I now want to read all the books I mention in this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own these characters! Though idk if Theo counts as a bit of an OC? I don't know, but Lin can keep her as his!**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Summer 1794

Burr somehow managed to assemble the shattered pieces of his soul enough to continue to show his typical, polite smile from day to day when he returned to work. It grated on his heart that he had to go back, because for the most part he would have been perfectly content to dedicate every waking moment to assisting his daughter in her own recovery. But a sense of duty to his absent wife compelled him to honour her wish for him to make her proud of his accomplishments and provide enough to keep young Theodosia in comfort. As demanding as his position as New York senator could be, he maintained that smile for her sake, painting on his own version of war paint to enter the battlefield of politics and keeping up the facade through all the trials he faced professionally. Yet he struggled to keep his jaw firmly locked in that smile and feign indifference when he faced irritation on a more personal level: namely, Alexander Hamilton's incessant bragging.

"How's your bright young Theodosia?" Hamilton asked, seeming to all the world amicable and genuinely interested in the well-being of his friendly rival's daughter.

He took a moment to ponder his answer, not wanting to seem either too interested in the conversation or too honest about her struggles. "Theodosia is doing just fine," he decided. Yet he needn't have concerned himself so much with the careful precision of his words, for Hamilton wasn't truly paying attention, instead looking for an excuse to steer the conversation towards the subject he truly wanted to talk of.

"Philip is doing excellently too," he shared without prompting, "He consistently achieves outstanding grades, he's by far the most intelligent young person I've ever know." It was high praise from the proud father who previously considered himself as the pinnacle of mental ability, though it was not something Burr particularly cared for, particularly because he knew his own daughter was at least as smart as Philip Hamilton.

Nevertheless, attempting to preserve the calm atmosphere, he simply commented, "You must be proud."

"Of course. He's already had several offers from prestigious schools eager to welcome him, and it's no wonder when you consider the wide range of subjects he's so well versed in," Hamilton replied, visibly smug about Philip's accomplishments. He'd already managed to irritate most of his other colleges with his talking about his paternal joy in his son's intelligence, but he was sure a fellow father, especially one as opposed to protesting anything, even a conversational topic, as Burr would humour him and provide something other than selectively deaf ears for his words to fall upon.

Yet Burr couldn't help feel a pang of jealousy as not for the first time he considered how injust it was that his Theodosia would never have such opportunities. Although, upon thinking of her intelligence, a genuine smirk sprang to life on his lips: it seemed Hamilton was unaware of his own child's superior intellect - though that was not a misconception he would allow to remain. "It must be nice to have a child of a gender who will be recognized for his talents. But unlike Philip, Theodosia doesn't study for recognition, she studies because her mind is so brilliant that she is simply incapable of wasting it, and she certainly is doing all she can with it. Has Philip not told you of how many subjects she has been educated in?" For once, Hamilton had nothing to say, surprised both at Burr's cool retaliation and the opposition to the way he was so eager to portray Philip as the single most learned person of his age. Burr chuckled, enjoying the rare feeling of having silenced the man. "Your son isn't the only one with a smart head on his shoulders, and you'll do well to remember that, Alexander." Though there was amusement in his voice, it held a sharp edge which almost dared Hamilton to forget the warning.

Hamilton held his cool gaze for a moment, reading the threat veiled by the other man's laughter: _Do not underestimate my family. If you do, it will only be worse when I prove you wrong_. But he sensed no real danger, only fatherly protection for his child's reputation, heightened by the need to take the defensive position of two parents in her life. Hamilton laughed along with him, with a polite nod. "If you say so, Burr, _Sir_."

He suddenly felt far less keen to boast to a man who apparently had plenty to share himself, and retreated. The slightly tense discussion would not weigh heavily on his mind, for the strength of his belief in Philip was unshakable, regardless of Burr's claims.

Burr, on the other hand, became thoroughly unnerved when he looked back on the conversation: not that lacked faith in his little girl, of course, but he reluctantly realized it had been some time since he'd seen her studying anything at all. He was hesitant to push her to focus on education when he knew the hole left in her heart from Theodosia's passing still dragged her to a place so miserable he could only comprehend it because he had been there himself. And though he'd always been aware of the general outline of what she knew, his wife had been the one to take charge of their daughter's education, and he loathed the thought of replacing her.

And yet, months had passed. He knew in his heart that his wife Theodosia would have been lenient to a point, but after a time they had surely passed a long time ago, she would have at least encouraged the girl to return to her studies: though she had been well aware of the fact that a woman would never be celebrated for brains, having been vigorously educated herself, she was a strong believer in how crucial being educated in a wide range of topics was to being a rounded human being, whatever your gender happened to be. And having seen the benefits, Aaron was inclined to agree.

 _Her grief must not distract her permanently_ , he decided, resolving to encourage a return to learning for his little girl.

* * *

"Theodosia?" He called into her room, a pile of books already in his arms: he would be gentle, but he was determined also to be firm enough that she had to comply.

"Yes, daddy," she invited him in, a sweet smile of on her face from seeing her father return from work. It fell as soon as he entered and she noticed the books he carried. Warily, she asked, "What are those for?"

Aaron came to sit on her bed, setting them down in front of her, saying nothing, allowing her to examine the books for herself.

She selected the first hefty tome and read aloud the cover, _"A Vindication of the Rights of Women,_ by Mary Wollstonecraft..." She glanced to Burr, her face clearly displaying her dubious reaction to the book he'd selected.

"That book provided your mother and I with many hours of intellectual conversation, and I think you ought to have a similar appreciation for it," he revealed, smiling as he fondly recalled the woman she had been named for.

Theo picked up the next in the pile. " _Eclogues_ , by Virgil. As in "selection" in Latin." She translated the word with ease, earning an approving nod.

"A selection of his finest poems. I first studied his works when applying to Princeton," Burr explained, "and it was very useful to my Latin skills."

She raised an eyebrow before continuing to the next volume, wrinkling her nose at a title she knew well from hearing various remarks, complimentary and otherwise. " _The Federalist papers?"_

Amused by her obvious bemusement, Burr grudgingly admitted, "You'd be hard pressed to locate a single volume of text more thorough or eloquent in all of history."

"And what purpose do these books serve?" Theo queried, sure that this was not so much an offering but a demand that she read them, and one she was reluctant to agree to.

Aaron sighed deeply as he recognized her lack of enthusiasm. Once upon a time she would have jumped at the chance to read anything he recommended to her. Now she could barely muster a shred of interest. "It came to my attention today that you have not been studying like you once did. I don't blame you, but I'm worried you could forever lose your passion for knowledge if this issue is not addressed." Theodosia said nothing, but looked down, instantly feeling guilty for causing her father to fear such a thing. He was right that she'd lost her passion, after all she hardly wanted to cram her mind with knowledge when her heart was so laden with sorrow. He placed an arm on her shoulder, pleading, "would you try reading them? Even a single one of them, I know you'd enjoy them."

She looked to him when he made contact, and saw the hope in his eyes. How could she refuse her dearly loved father when he'd gone to the effort of selecting books he thought she'd enjoy? She still wasn't quite herself. But she was determined to try her best to return to the person she had once been. She nodded once, not with particular commitment, but enough to cause Burr to grin widely, as proud as he always had been of his little girl.

* * *

"Philip! You've a letter, darling!" Eliza called to her eldest son, her musical voice echoing through the house.

He was still in his bedroom, and had been awake only a few minutes, reluctantly woken by the sun rays piercing through the curtains of his east-facing bedroom with no consideration for those who still wished to sleep. Nevertheless, the excitement in her voice was contagious, and he lifted himself from his bed, rushing down to see what had caused such a reaction.

In her hands was an envelope bearing a familiar stamp and his name. He locked eyes with her, seeing in her dark gaze a sparkling delight confirming that she, too, had recognized the symbol on the letter he'd been awaiting.

He eagerly tore it open, unfolding the paper inside which had a very short paragraph written on it. He read the words aloud, his voice rising in volume as he realized exactly what the letter meant: "Mr Philip Hamilton, King's High School is pleased to offer you a place in our boarding program, with guaranteed acceptance to King's college following completion of your courses!" He beamed, delighted, at Eliza, who displayed matching happiness, albeit with slightly teary eyes from the knowledge he would be leaving home.

Even so, she gladly embraced him, much to his chagrin, dotting a stream of kisses all over his face while he laughed and attempted to struggle away from her maternal doting. Between kisses, she declared, "I'm so proud of you!"

"What on earth has the poor boy done to deserve this?" Alexander asked, entertained by Eliza's blatant bliss and Philip's comic helplessness in her arms.

Finally releasing his face, Elizabeth explained, "He has been accepted into King's!"

Just as he'd been liberated from his mother's adoration, his father took his turn to congratulate the boy, kneeling down with tears in his eyes as he told Philip, "I know you'll do great things there. And someday, you'll blow us all away." His voice cracked, emotions overcoming him, and despite his aversion to overly stifling displays of affection from his parents, Philip felt he had to hug his father, a gesture which Hamilton returned with fierce affection.

"I will, Pops," Philip agreed, his face glowing with anticipation even as his father buried it in his jacket. He felt an overwhelming desire to shout his good news from the rooftops, and tell everyone he knew, friends and family alike. Though there was one friend he knew he couldn't tell...

* * *

"Daddy, did you _really_ enrol at college when you were only thirteen?" Theodosia asked, taking a break from her extensive reading to talk to her father. As soon as she came to stand beside his desk, he set down his quill, giving her curiosity his full undivided attention.

"Yes," he answered truthfully, flattered by his daughter's interest in his own education.

"Which means you must have understood all of this book by that age, then?" She queried, hauling the heavy tome onto his desk and dropping it with a loud, echoing thud. She was working her way through it - slowly but surely - and she was enjoying it, but it was extremely challenging. As Burr had intended, but that didn't help her to overcome the difficulty she faced when reading.

"For the most part," he admitted, "Though you are younger than that, and even I didn't understand every word, so be patient with it, my dear Theodosia."

Still Theodosia was not satisfied. "I am being patient. Excruciatingly so, because I enjoy it, but it takes a terribly long time to read even a single page!" She lamented. Yet this was not a signal of her giving up, but her asking advice on how to persevere.

Burr smirked in amusement. Mildly, he replied, "In which case, you ought to remember above all the difficulty that you do, in fact, enjoy it. If you do, you will see that _trahit sua quemque voluptas._ " He quoted the Latin text, waiting to judge whether Theo would understand his reference.

Frowning as she slowly translated, she repeated in English the phrase back to him: "Each has his dear delight which draws him on." She pondered it a moment, considering what it meant in the context Aaron had used. "If I like something, it will motivate me to continue?" Burr nodded his agreement, and Theodosia grinned. She was thankful that he had decided to take a keener interest in her studies, because he seemed to know precisely how to reignite her interest in her literature. "Thank you, Daddy," she said, and gave him a quick, tight hug before picking up the book and scampering back to the library.

* * *

The Hamilton household held a similar scene of parent and child sharing in important discussion. Alexander found himself pacing the hall when Philip emerged, his satisfaction from his earlier letter still firmly on his face. Hamilton regarded his son with a thoughtful look, taking a pause from considering the words he longed to write to read the young boy's face. Philip almost greeted him, but he stopped, recognizing the fact that his father was inspecting him carefully, and it was best to let him do so uninterrupted.

Eventually, and forgetting Philip was unable to follow the path of his thoughts, Hamilton decided, "You should go."

"What? To boarding school? I thought you wanted me to go anyway?" Philip asked, thoroughly confused by the vague statement.

"What? No, to Theodosia," Hamilton clarified after a moment of his own confusion. It all seemed so glaringly obvious to him, yet somehow his son hadn't understood.

And he was still having difficulty comprehending his father in the strange, almost absent minded mood he seemed to adopt when he took an unexpected break from a heavy workload. "I can't go to her, she isn't ready to receive guests," he explained as clearly and concisely as he could manage, believing that much at least should be obvious even to his dazed father.

Lucidity returning to him slowly, Alexander stated, "Burr told me she was doing well when we last spoke. You clearly want to tell her your news, and as your friend she must be interested to know before you leave."

The boy considered it; on the one hand, he'd told her he wouldn't call by her house until she requested he attended. But then, he'd soon be leaving, and would she not want to know? With a sigh, he decided he ought to honour his word for as long as possible. "I do want to see her... But I will give her some time. There are still months before I leave, and if it comes to it, I could visit her then." It was an unhappy compromise between his honour-bound mind and friendly heart. But it would suffice, after all it ensured he'd see her sooner or later.

He only wished it could be the former.

* * *

Philip waited as long as time would permit. But once his bags were packed and he had received not so much as a note from Theodosia, he was left with no option but to take it into his own hands. And he was reluctant to startle her by reappearing suddenly into her life through a forced window, hence his appearance on Burr's doorstep on the late summer evening before he departed for school the next day, squinting and half blinded by the low sunshine blazing into his eyes.

A maid opened the door, and he politely requested, "Might I see Miss Burr? Tell her that Philip Hamilton needs to talk to her."

The maid retreated, leaving him on the porch for at least five minutes. _Surely it shouldn't take this long to fetch her,_ he mused, growing anxious that she might not appear to meet him. Desperately he hoped even his non-intrusive visit hadn't been too forward for her, and began to suspect it was a terrible idea after all. But if she refused to see him, how would she know of his leaving?

He searched his pocket, and found a slightly crumpled sheet of paper and a pencil. He quickly leaned it against the door frame and scribbled a brief, untidy message, struggling to write in his usually neat script with his vision impaired by the sun: Should he be unable to tell her in person, a note would suffice

As he signed his name, a set of footsteps began to grow closer, and he smiled with relief, tucking the paper into his pocket seeing as it appeared unwarranted. "Theo, at last! I need -" The figure stepped close enough that it became clear it was not that of an eleven year old girl. His words faded into silence, and instantly became formal as he recognized, "Mr Burr, Sir."

"Philip Hamilton." He said nothing else, which Philip took as an invitation to state his business.

"I wondered if I might see your daughter? Only, I have something important to tell her and little time left to say it."

Burr narrowed his eyes. The boy had done nothing to deserve his scrutiny, but as Theodosia's sole guardian, he felt compelled by paternal duty to be excessively wary of anyone intending to meet with her in the fragile state he knew her tender heart was still in. The fact that the little boy on his doorstep was the son of his biggest political rival did no favours to Philip's cause either. "I'm afraid she is too busy to accept guests," he answered firmly, resolving to prevent this unexpected visitor from seeing the girl.

Philip opened his mouth to protest, but caught himself in time to prevent himself from answering with some retort which might have insulted the wise man. He didn't believe the excuse Burr fabricated to palm him off with, but his trusting mind read another perfectly valid motive for blocking his entry: it was simply too soon. Reluctantly, he mumbled, "Yes, Sir. I'll be leaving." He remembered before departing, however, the hastily scrawled letter he'd written while Burr had been coming to the door. "Would you pass this to her?" He asked, handing Aaron the paper he pulled from his pocket.

Burr took the letter after a heartbeat of wondering if it would be truly disgraceful to refuse. _Yes_ , he realised: It was one thing to guard his precious little girl from the eyes of a young man who would likely be more trouble than he was worth, and a completely different, infinitely more manipulative thing to dictate whose letters reached her hands. He would never lie to her, only encourage her on a path he considered more beneficial.

"Thank you, Sir," Philip murmured, relieved he'd decided to take it. His obedience immediately made Burr glad he'd accepted the letter, certain that Philip surely couldn't be as arrogant as his father if he was so willing to respect him. The boy retreated, and Burr closed the door behind him, then went to find Theodosia, who was in her bedroom reading, oblivious to her friend having been in such close proximity and yet not being permitted to see her.

"Who was at the door, Daddy?" She asked, glancing up as she noticed him push open the door.

Keeping to his policy of never deceiving her, he truthfully answered, "Your friend Philip came to see you. I'm afraid I turned him away because I was unsure whether you were well enough to receive guests."

Theodosia wondered the same thing herself when he mentioned it, after all there was a reason she'd not felt capable of inviting him to visit. Still, she murmured, "Seeing as he went to the trouble of coming here, I'm sure I would have made myself well enough."

"But you don't have to. There's no rush to forget your mother, dear Theodosia, you can return to normality in your own time," the doting father reassured. His daughter had nothing to say to that. After a moment of silence, he passed her the slightly creased note.

She unfolded it and swiftly scanned the page. Looking back to Aaron, she revealed, "He's going away to boarding school tomorrow. Did Mr Hamilton tell you?"

Burr tried to recall the many times Hamilton had spoken to him and he'd apparently succeeded at completely blocking out every word of his infuriatingly talkative friend. "It might have come up, but I rarely pay Alexander much attention," he explained sheepishly, feeling a pang of guilt at his neglecting to warn his daughter.

"Don't worry, I can write to him," she replied, disappointment clear in her voice.

Disappointment because of Philip.

It was irrational to think such things of a twelve year old, but he couldn't help but wonder what a boy who could sadden his little girl unintentionally could inflict on her if he ever got into an argument with her. Or decided to stop writing to her. Or worse, what if her affection towards him grew to something more than platonic and he rejected her? Considering the fierce Hamilton blood which ran in his veins, there was every probability the young man had inherited the hard-headed thoughtlessness Alexander often displayed. The thought of him turning it on Theodosia was an idea which did not bear thinking about. It could not be allowed to happen.

Gently, he suggested, "Perhaps it's best you don't." As a dash of pain fluttered across her face, he quickly justified, "I know you're friends for now, but he'll be terribly busy while he's away, and the things which occur could change him beyond recognition. And what about _your_ studies? Letters can be nice, but they might take a long while to write. And you must be aware that as they grow older, friendships between males and females are often frowned upon... I don't mean to upset you, but there are so many reasons to forget this childish distraction."

Theodosia bowed her head, dejected at the suggestion of surrendering her closest friend due to something as petty as social expectations and a few miles separating them. But her father made sense, he always did.

She raised her head to meet his gaze, and his warm eyes alight with hope were the final confirmation of her decision. "Alright, father. I will stop writing."

Burr nodded his approval and embraced her, relieved that, in his mind, a hard decision had spared her years of heartbreak. He didn't intend to do anything but be the best father he could be, which included the difficult duty of persuading her to be sensible rather than follow impulses based on nothing but emotions. Perhaps it was a masculine approach, but it was one he'd always obeyed himself, and had not led him astray as of so far. He was filled with complete conviction that she had chosen the right thing, and that he had been correct to influence her as such. _I haven't lied in any way, only steered her towards the most advantageous path_ , he consoled himself. But he couldn't suppress the tiniest shred of guilt that he'd helped remove the polite young man who'd appeared on his doorstep from her life partly because of a rivalry with his father.


	6. Chapter 6 - If you join us right now

**A/N: Hey reader! Thanks for being patient, I know this chapter took a little while, but I fully intend to get on top of all my writing. There's a lot of things I'm trying to work on, but don't worry, this story is high up my list of priorities! Your reading, reviewing and favouriting is always so appreciated! Hope you enjoy this, there's been a jump to 1797, three years later, so Philip is 15 and Theo is 14 (and Eliza is pregnant)! And Theo is awesome, I adore her!**

* * *

Chapter 6 - Summer 1797

Aaron Burr leaned back from where he had been hunched over for hours reading a report. It was tedious work to peruse the writing of someone else, but at least being preoccupied with it gave him some shield from presenting his own views in the political world. Which is not at all to say he enjoyed it, and as soon as the sweet melodies of his talented daughter drifted into his office, it seemed the perfect excuse to abandon his work.

He strolled to the room where the piano was situated and silently leaned against the door frame, patiently awaiting the fourteen year old to complete her song. Even so, she sensed his presence, and glanced over her shoulder to give him a warm, affectionate smile as she continued to play: over the years, her beloved father had become the single most important person in her life, her guide and her guardian, and she relished every moment he spared from his work to be around her.

Once she reached the end of the song, Burr applauded as he would having witnessed a great play, and commented, "That was beautiful. You play better every day."

"Thank you, father," she nodded once, accepting the praise, and stood to approach him, a certain glint in her eye paired with the mischief of her smile which the father instantly recognized as a warning that his little girl was about to make a large request.

Suspicious, he enquired, "What do you want from me?" He smirked as she widened her eyes innocently and gasped as though she hadn't known exactly what she wanted to ask the minute she set eyes on him. Amused, he instructed, "You might as well tell me, I know you're after _something_..."

Her expression of surprise lingered for a heartbeat, before her eagerness to make her request broke her mask into a bright grin. "Very well, if you must know, I wanted to ask you if I might host a dinner party here." Though she spoke with flawless formality, her brown gaze revealed a childish anticipation of the event she had longed to arrange for what seemed like forever.

Aaron wasn't especially averse to the idea, but he was puzzled by the unexpected request. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Why do you want to do that? You'd most likely be the youngest host the country has ever seen."

Chuckling, she responded, "It's not like the country has been around long enough for somebody else to set a precedent."

"You know what I mean. Why now, when you're so young?" Burr reiterated, serious in spite of her witty observation.

Theo sighed as she explained, "I just want to prove that I can do it. After all, I am the lady of the house, and I've neglected to host a single gathering of our family friends, something I am acutely aware of. So please, daddy, let me do this?" Her desperate expression begged just as fiercely as her emotive words, and Burr had to consider her logical arguments.

Initially, he was uncertain about introducing such a young girl to the stressful world from which she would not be able to step back into childhood once she had entered. But then, she was wise beyond her years, every inch as clever and mature as the most pristine lady, and with youthful charm enough to make her the perfect host. _What's the worst that could happen?_ He pondered. _Nothing earth shatteringly catastrophic_. "Very well," he agreed, and Theodosia replied with a delighted bounce as she clapped enthusiastically in her excitement. "Wait here," he ordered, disappearing from the room to his office, where he quickly located a list from a lifetime ago in the drawers of his meticulously organised desk. He returned and placed it in her hands. "You can choose any of the people on this list to invite," he explained mildly as she thoroughly scanned the piece of paper as soon as she received it.

She looked back up to him, almost giddy with anticipation as she grinned, "Thank you, Daddy. I won't let you down."

* * *

"My love, _please_ just look at yourself. You ought to stay at home and rest," Alexander insisted, his hand resting on his wife's pregnant belly, protruding far from her body. This was Elizabeth's seventh pregnancy, but he distinctly regretted that her sixth had not been successful. He was determined to prevent a second miscarriage, and that meant executing every precaution to ensure his wife was kept in comfort for the entirety of her pregnancy.

Yet she was adamant that she should attend. "Husband, dearest, you are paranoid. I shall be fine, because it is a dinner party, not a war zone, therefore your fears are unwarranted." He drew breath to protest, but she continued before he could utter another syllable, "Miss Burr has invited us to her first dinner, and I would never forgive myself if I failed to show my support for the girl I recall so fondly." She raised an eyebrow, daring her wayward husband to argue with her iron will: Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton would not be ordered around by any man, including the one who shared her surname.

Hamilton himself was every bit as stubborn, and insisted, "My fears are _not_ unwarranted. We both know what can happen -"

"And we both know that it is much more likely to occur if the mother is placed under stress. So as long as you remember it is to be food on the table rather than some important issue you need to debate in a cabinet room, I'm certain that this will be a pleasant evening," she cut him off with a shrewd sniff; it was unlike her to be so sharp with him, yet her hormones permitted her to be firm, a fact he knew well.

Hamilton groaned for a moment at his wife's determination. But once she set her mind to something, there was little he could do to combat it, and he was loathe to place any slight pressure on her by continuing to make successless harangues. Therefore, after some hesitation, he muttered, "Fine."

At once the stubborn frown lifted from Eliza's brow, and she spoke as though she'd never know frustration in her life as she confessed, "I'm sure young Theodosia is to be wonderful! I only hope things are not difficult between her and Philip."

Alexander nodded his agreement: their eldest son had been included as one of the invitees, yet both parents were well aware that the bold young man still felt a touch insulted by the way Miss Burr had neglected to enquire after him at all in the past three years. Even so, he comforted Elizabeth, "I'm certain he can judge a situation well enough to know when his opinions are appropriate and when they are not. And he should be mature enough to contain himself when he undoubtedly discovers the latter."

Smiling coyly, Eliza teased, "I hope he doesn't take too much after his father in that respect..." At Hamilton's bemused look, she elaborated, " _You_ ought to be mature enough to contain yourself when it appears that sharing your opinions is unnecessary too, but we both know that's not quite how it plays out, don't we, Alexander?"

Hamilton smiled adoringly at his miracle of a wife, and couldn't help but marvel at the brilliant sparkling of humour in her dark black eyes. He indulged her, answering, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," and leaned in to kiss her softly.

"Mom, Pops, we have to -" The fifteen year old instantly regretted entering the bedroom without knocking first in his haste to remind his parents of the time, and instead moaned, agonized, at their display of love.

His parents pulled apart and turned to him, and Eliza was the one who found the words to respond to his juvenile cringing. "You'll understand one day, Philip. But for now, you're right, we need to leave, else Miss Burr will be anxious."

At once his foolish adolescence evaporated from his body as he heard her name, and he was replaced by a stiff young man who struggled to keep his mouth set in a firm line rather than revealing his inner confusion; truly, he knew he had no right to have expected Theodosia to write, as she warned him it would take her some time. But he had left, and still she had remained indifferent, and being slighted in such a way left him unsure whether to be frustrated or saddened.

But somehow he managed a nod, so both adults turned a blind eye to the visible change in their child. Silently, his father regarded him, and recalled Eliza's teasing. _Please_ , he willed silently, _for your mother's sake, have the rationality to save whatever outburst awaits for another day._

* * *

As she inspected and restyled her hair time and time again, it felt to Theodosia as though a large knot writhed about inside her stomach, threatening to drive her insane as she awaited the guests to arrive. Her heart pounded quickly with excitement, but her belly felt as though it held nothing but a sea of nerves, and though this was to be a dinner party, the mere idea of eating caused her to feel positively nauseous.

A knock came upon the door, and she dashed to answer it, abandoning her priming and preening. She smiled widely before she even opened the door, practicing to make a good first impression. _This has to be perfect,_ she reminded herself - regardless of her age, she would not be satisfied if her first dinner party was anything less than the most seasoned hostess provided.

She muttered under her breath a practice of her words, "Welcome to the Burr household. We're so glad you were able to attend this evening, please come on through." Believing herself adequately prepared, she opened the door to the trio waiting on the other side. But her welcoming smile transformed into a chuffed grin, her precise formality slipping away and her excitement overcoming it as she recognized the long-absent face she'd missed over the years: "Philip!"

The teenager met her delighted brown gaze with cool golden eyes which his polite, almost stiff smile didn't quite reach, and responded with a touch of indifference, "I'm surprised you recognize me, Miss Burr."

Her beaming grin faltered momentarily, but she swiftly resumed the warm but dignified manner she'd intended to treat her guests with. _I'm sure he's only reminding me that this is not the time or place for our friendly reunion_ , she assured herself, not even considering any other possible reason for him to be any less than jubilant that they were meeting again. "Of course I recognize you, though I'm sure you've exceeded all of my fondest expectations since you've been gone. Much like your family - congratulations on your pregnancy Mrs Hamilton, Mr Hamilton." She turned her attention to the adults, who nodded with satisfaction at the prominent bump where the latest addition to their family waited to make an entrance. "Welcome to the Burr household, we're so glad you were all able to attend this evening. Please, come on through," she invited, reverting to her rehearsed lines as she lead them to the dining room.

"Thank you, Miss Burr," Eliza replied as she followed alongside her family. However, she slowed down, immediately causing her husband some consternation as he turned to her.

"Elizabeth, what is it? Do you need to go home?" He asked, the hint of a plea in his voice: he longed to postpone any ordeal which created unnecessarily difficult situations until after the delivery, especially one in particular which was guaranteed to be more damaging than a social gathering. But even something as innocent as a dinner gathering was no exception to the scrutiny of his wary mind.

Still, her face displayed no discomfort, and she placated, "I'm quite fine, love, only a touch breathless. You go on ahead, Philip can wait with me a moment while I collect myself." Though he hesitated, she raised her eyebrows to him insistently, silently indicating that he should not question why she claimed shortness of breath despite her chest not rising and falling an inordinate amount. He nodded, reading that she had some other intention, and obeyed her order, following Theo to the dining room. Meanwhile, Eliza turned to her son, a slight frown detracting from the generally placid glow of her face.

"What is it, Mother? Are you okay?" He queried anxiously, picking up some of his father's nerves as well as his own confusion as to what had caused her brow to crease.

She nodded slowly. "I'm fine. But I don't think _you_ are." Before he could protest, she enquired, "Why were you so cold with Theodosia?"

He snorted, sceptical of her deduction due to his own denial. "I wasn't cold." As he considered it, however, he corrected, "At least, I was only as cold to her as _she_ has been to _me_ over the past three years." The humour faded from his eyes to be replaced with a desolate glimmer of disappointment.

The practical mother placed a calming hand on his shoulder as she began to comfort him. "I know she hurt you with her being silent for so long, but you know as well as I do that an intelligent young woman such as her would do nothing so damaging without very good reason." Her voice shifted to what Philip interpreted as a lecture as she continued, "However much she offended you, it is in the past now, so you ought to forgive it. Please, Philip, don't be so stubborn that your undying grudge ruins this evening for her. You have no idea how important it is to her."

 _You have no idea how important she was to me, before she decided to pretend I don't exist,_ he longed to reply. But he knew it would sound petty and childish, and might cause more than a gentle scolding from his hormonal mother. So instead he nodded once, intending to appease her concern without promising as much.

It was an action Eliza recognized from her argumentative husband. But it was clearly as close to agreement as she would receive from the young man who was so much like his father, so she decided that would be enough. With a hint of doubt, she ruffled his curls affectionately, before following after the young hostess.

* * *

"This was quite lovely, Miss Burr," a portly gentleman complimented the young woman, who chuckled at the courtesy.

"Thank you, Mr Brant," she replied, adding after a moment, "I notice you've finished your wine. Could I pour you some more?"

" _I'd_ gladly take up that offer," a Doctor she had invited commented, and the young girl quickly obliged. Despite the difficulty she had experienced in selecting the meal and a set of guests she'd expect to remain civil through the entirety of the evening, she had proved herself to be a highly capable hostess throughout the night, a fact which hadn't gone overlooked by her father, who was always proud of her regardless of her achievements, but even more so when she did something so brilliant without any prior experience.

"Why not fill _all_ our glasses, and we will toast your success this evening," he suggested, beaming at her with unreserved admiration; Aaron Burr was under no misconceptions about how highly complicated the work of a lady during a social occasion was, and he was adamant that it should be recognized and celebrated. His smile only intensified into a mischievous smirk as he noted her blush at his praises.

"Father, there's no need," she protested. True, she was very pleased with herself, but she was reluctant to be the centre of attention. Part of what had enabled her to remain calm had been her ability to distract herself from the fact that the night's proceedings were entirely her responsibility, and to have her guests labour about the point might steal the facade of peace away from her.

"You're too modest. Of course we should celebrate, you've been simply sublime tonight," Eliza insisted, reminding Theodosia of the way she had instantly taken to her mother's friend on their first meeting. The pregnant woman reached for her hand and squeezed it, a silent reminder to the obviously tense young woman that she was among friends who knew exactly how much effort she had contributed to entertain them all.

"Very well, if you insist," Theodosia submitted, and made her way around the table, refilling any empty glass, save that of the pregnant woman unable to consume alcohol.

Burr stood once she returned to her seat, and declared, "I have been to many dinner parties, but I believe tonight my daughter has demonstrated the most exemplary service I have ever encountered. I'm sure we can appreciate how much work goes into planning an event for warmly regarded friends such as you gathered here, and it is even more of an impressive feat for one so young. I made no request of Theodosia, but she decided of her own accord to host a dinner, something which she knows gives me unspeakable pride." By this point, she was crimson, so he mercifully finished, "please join me in raising a glass to Miss Burr - the most thoughtful of women."

A murmur of agreement arose from all still seating as they lifted their glasses before sipping. Only Philip Hamilton hesitated to drink, taking the smallest of sips in his silent dissent. However, it didn't go unnoticed by the man so contented by his child's efforts.

As he sat back down, he fixed a steely gaze on the young boy, managing his typical smile as he questioned, "Something the matter, Philip? I couldn't help but recognize that you barely touched your drink during our toast..." The smile disguised it as an innocent question. But Philip, Alexander and Theodosia recognized it as an interrogation.

"He's fifteen, father, you can't expect him to be drinking as much as an adult," Theodosia quickly jumped to defend the friend she had once held so dearly close to her heart.

"Or do you condone a schoolboy's consumption of alcohol, Burr? I wouldn't have expected that of you, although no one _ever_ knows what to expect of you, thanks to your clever way of dealing with things," Alexander challenged. Burr's eyes narrowed, and a flicker of irritation sparked within him.

Desperate to avert a serious disagreement, Eliza gripped Hamilton's arm, sharply protesting, "Alexander! Remember what we discussed earlier."

Hamilton sighed, irked by the interruption, but even _he_ could deduce that it was sensible to keep quiet for once. Even so, the silence was heavy, weighed with the arguments forced to remain unspoken. Keen to return to the formerly light mood, Theo attempted to make conversation with Philip, who had remained quiet throughout the night. "Speaking of you being a schoolboy, how has boarding school been?" She asked, genuinely eager to learn about what he had seen and done while he'd been away.

Yet that struck him as insulting, and he scathingly replied, "I was under the impression you couldn't care at all about my schooling." For the first time since they met at the door, he met her eyes, and the complete detachment in his golden gaze made her truly fear that he was angry at her. If she'd chosen to ignore it earlier, now she had no choice but to acknowledge the truth. Her shot at alleviating the awkward tension had gone drastically awry, and now her blush was definitely not from embarrassment at praise.

Frustrated at his son's rude behaviour, Hamilton sympathetically tried to come to her rescue, suggesting, "Some music might be appreciated. Burr tells me you play piano, Miss Theodosia."

"That's true, Mr Hamilton. But I seem to recall that your son's skills once greatly outweighed my own," she tried to flatter Philip into forgiveness. He looked at her with an odd expression, yet didn't verbally disagree, leading her to prompt, "Philip? Would you play with me?"

His response was more of a harsh blow than he ever intended. It was only meant to be a refusal. Instead, he disrespected the thing which had first united them, and everything which they had experienced since when he coldly remarked, "I've forgotten all I know, which is just as well seeing as it was nothing but a childish hobby."

His mother couldn't stifle her quiet gasp, and the young hostess did all she could to conceal her own pain, but failed to prevent the smallest sparkle of tears rising: it wasn't like he was wrong - they had shared the interest as children, and occasionally played together. _It's just a game, it doesn't really matter,_ she tried to convince herself. Except she knew it was more than that. And _he_ was meant to know that it became so much more than a game the moment he insisted on tying her mother's illness and then death to his playing. He'd snuck into her home to offer the gift of music to her mother in her final days, and he had returned to honour her memory. It had been one of the most profound and sweet gestures to the mourning Theo, and had provided her comfort when little else could. But to him, it was a childish hobby. It meant nothing. _She_ meant nothing.

He realized his mistake as soon as the thoughtless words left his mouth, because he had never dreamed of inflicting as much pain on her as the shimmer of tears in her eyes indicated. He had been hurt, and it made him want to lash out irrationally. But she didn't deserve his blatant lies. He tried to correct himself, but she interrupted, "I suppose I will play alone." She rushed from the room too quickly, and fell against the wall as soon as she was out of sight, allowing a single sob to escape.

 _Daddy was right, he did change while he was away_ , she realized with what felt like a sharp dagger in her side. _No matter._ I _can play, and prove myself to my guests_ without _him_. She wiped her tears away, forbidding herself to let that boy reduce her to a sobbing mess ever again, and continued to the piano room.

Meanwhile, Burr's glare towards the young boy was completely visible, without a trace of his generally calm expression to temper the heat of his gaze. He dared not risk upsetting the girl any further by causing a scene at the dinner which was so crucial to her reputation within respectable society, yet it confirmed that he was reserving harsh disapproval for a moment of privacy with both Hamilton men. For the time being, however, he couldn't do as much as open his mouth for fear that he would not be able to conceal the fury boiling within him towards the young boy who had made his young girl cry. _I thought ending their friendship would save her from pain at his hands. But I was wrong_ , he realised, annoyed by his own negligence to check the list he'd given her. He should have ensured none of that family was invited and given the opportunity to taint his poor daughter's golden heart with the shadow which lurked behind them.

After a moment, the sound of piano floated in from the next room, and most of the guests leaned back in their seats and began to make polite conversation, visibly soothed by the calming melody, the polar opposite of the tumultuous storm within both the pianist and the once-friend who'd been invited to play with her.

While the distraction of her inner turmoil caused Theo's hands to slip from time to time, Philip was assaulted by a barrage of his own thoughts. _Idiot, what a ridiculous thing to say, do you not have any common sense at all? You have no right to lash out simply because you're upset, and you have no right to be upset in the first place because you promised her you didn't mind when she let you back in. And now she has, or had, and the first thing you do is tell her you were only being childish when you played for her dead mother. Well, nice one, Philip_. Nothing Burr could have said to criticize him would have differed at all from the endless stream of regrets coursing through his brain, but when he heard her stumble particularly noticeably, one idea rose above the rest: _I need to apologise, and I need to do it now._

He stood and excused himself, before following the sound to the familiar room. Theodosia was already struggling to play, so he didn't disturb her by alerting her of his presence, only walked towards her and perched on the stool beside her. It was a much tighter fit for the pair of them than it once had been, but they fit nonetheless. She didn't react at all, only allowed him to join her playing without protest, though it was noticed that she stopped slipping once he was at her side once more. To all listening ears, it was harmonious. However, they still had a lot to explain to one another.

He didn't know what to expect when they finished, but after she'd fled from the dining room on the brink of crying, he would have assumed Theodosia might say something more emotive than her sarcastic question, "Was it so difficult to drag your knowledge out from your forgotten memories?"

"Theo, I'm sorry. I didn't forget, I _couldn't_ forget -"

"Then why lie?" She demanded, surprisingly fierce for a young woman who had been rejected by a friend she once adored moments previously. But then, she _had_ been feisty before her mother's passing had rendered her the grieving child she had been when they last met.

Sighing, he explained, "I didn't mean to. I wasn't thinking, because I was so confused and hurt by you failing to contact me for so long. I know I told you I'd be patient, but I thought that my going away might be important enough for you to at least try to say goodbye... I really am sorry."

Theo was silent for a heartbeat. She maintained her disapproving tone as she shot back, "You _should_ be sorry." Another beat passed, and her aggression melted away as she continued, "I know you wanted me to write, and I wanted that too. I regret not doing it now, because it seems you've changed terribly since you've been gone. But now you're home for the summer, I only want my old best friend back." A trace of melancholy shadow marred her sparkling brown eyes, and she glanced down to her lap, where her hands were clasped together.

Philip saw her sadness, and felt it like a kick in the gut. Even so, her words had been hopeful, so he took her hands in his, causing her to look back up at him in surprise at the contact. He nodded enthusiastically, eyes wide and gleaming as he agreed, "That's all I've wanted, too! You'll see, I've not changed as much as you think I have. I can prove it to you - if you can forgive me sufficiently to allow me the chance," he added sheepishly.

Theodosia considered his proposition. She mused, "You always used to be fun... I suppose I can forgive you for being so immature, after all I can understand why losing my friendship would be such a devastating experience." A smirk played on her lips as she joked lightly.

"More devastating than you realize," Philip agreed with an infectious, sunny grin she couldn't help but return. "So are we friends again?" He checked hopefully.

Theodosia nodded her confirmation. "That's a silly question. We never _stopped_ being friends." The boy sighed in blatant relief, causing her to giggle, and tease, "Am I so important that you would lose all sense and inhibitions for my sake?"

Philip shrugged, suddenly reserved as he admitted warmly, "I suppose you are." His shyness faded as he continued in the same teasing manner she had, adopting a snobbish persona, "I hope that over this summer, we become close enough again that you prove that I'm right to care so much."

Theodosia smirked at his falsely haughty request, but there was no joke about her agreement as she answered firmly, "Trust me, I intend to."


	7. Chapter 7 - Have you read this?

**A/N: *scary ominous sounds* THE REYNOLDS PAMPHLET *scary ominous sounds* HAVE YOU READ THIS?**

 **Ayy I'm so pumped for this chapter, ya know why? HAMILKIDS!**

 **Oh wow I'm in such a good mood right now, I think I'm maybe a touch hyper? Hey ho (because I got more hoes than a phone book in Tokyo), let's go!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hamilton, or that great reference to In The Heights I just made a sentence ago! Both are Lin's brainchildren! Speaking of Lin and children, I feel like a proud Mum thinking about the (16!) Hamilton Tony nominations! Anyway, I really shouldn't be so cheerful cuz the start of this chapter is pretty grim!**

* * *

Chapter 7 - Summer 1797

William Stephen Hamilton had been born three weeks previously, and it was certainly not an obscure occurrence since then for any member of the household to be awoken at some ungodly hour by the wailing complaints of the new baby. However, on the 31st of August, it was not the baby who made the awful cry of disbelief upon reading a certain pamphlet baring the family name which shocked every sleeping child awake.

And when Philip wandered down to the kitchen to find his mother weeping, knelt on the floor with her head in her lap and that disastrous pamphlet clutched so tightly between her white knuckles, he understood exactly what had warranted such a loud response. He only had to glimpse the first of many pages as he prised it from her hands to see the kind of shattering blow on her tender heart the thoughtless words inflicted. Considering the tone of the piece, he had no desire to read any further.

"Philip." Only then did he notice his father standing in the room with his back against the wall as though he'd been forced into that corner, as far away from his sobbing wife as the four walls would permit. The man who always demanded attention almost faded into the scenery, his regular commanding presence fading into insignificance compared to Eliza's all too vivid display of grief.

His eldest child looked at him, but somehow couldn't recognize the man standing before his eyes. The same father he'd admired all his life, the one he aspired to achieve the matching greatness of. Only, that man wasn't there any more. Replacing him was this promiscuous, disloyal stranger who betrayed his wife, then several years later admitted his infidelity in the most humiliating and public way possible.

He couldn't bring himself to call him his father - at least, not when his dear mother was hunched over on the kitchen floor in a swiftly growing puddle of her own tears. Instead he stiffly grunted, "Sir."

A dash of pain dashed across Hamilton's face at the notable change in his precious son. He began to defend himself, "I didn't know what else to do, they - " he stopped himself before he could say anything even remotely convincing, because in his heart he knew that nothing could justify his actions in the eyes of his family. His usually flawless ability to argue his case was slashed and severely impaired by the sight of his much-loved wife and son in the state they found themselves. _The state which you created,_ he reminded himself cruelly.

His attempt at an explanation only appeared feeble and even cowardly to his son, and Philip shook his head, thoroughly disappointed in this new side of his formerly revered father. He could find nothing to say, because he had no idea how to feel. He loved his father. But he loved his mother too, and never before had he felt so conflicted.

He looked back to his mother, who was shivering despite the summer heat already penetrating the house as soon as the sun rose above the horizon. His feelings about his father might be unclear for the time being, but his opinion of her was obvious: that sweet, fragile woman could not be burdened with the duty of motherhood for her children when her husband's selfish pamphlet had reduced her to little more than a lost, confused child herself. "Mother, please go back to bed. Have a day of rest and reflection, I will take care of my siblings in the meantime so that you can be in peace." His assertive request was met with no resistance. In time to come, she would be furious at the betrayal; for now, however, the initial shock made her completely helpless. He took her hands and tried to pull her to her feet, desperate at least to see that the woman could mourn her marriage in some place more dignified - not that she _felt_ at all dignified after reading the revealing secrets Alexander had chosen to publish. But she followed anyway, too dazed to protest, as Philip led her upstairs. He settled her in bed and kissed her cheek, his heart seeming to tremble at the cool contrast of wet tears on her hot skin. Elizabeth's eyes gazed off into the distance, a world of agony dancing nightmarishly within the black pools as she recalled the life she had built, the life she had settled with for that man's sake, tainted by his deception.

Philip hesitated to leave her in that state, but what else could he do? How could the words of a boy who had only fifteen years worth of wisdom behind him be any use at all? In fact, what use would _anything_ be to a woman pulled in one hundred different directions by her children's demands? _Time and faith alone will help her_ , he decided, and left her bedroom.

* * *

"Daddy! Daddy, have you read this? It's terrible, poor Mrs Hamilton, how could he ever have done this?" Theodosia lamented, shouting her woe as she ran around the house, skirts gathered in one hand and that dreaded article in the other, searching for her father.

She located him in the library, staring pensively at the garden beyond his house. He turned to her as she burst into the room, and took the document which she thrust into his hand. He barely skimmed the first page before he realised exactly what the impulsive man had done. "He did this himself... He's even more foolish than I realized," he muttered, passing the papers back to Theo with a look of only mild interest on his face.

"Father, did you know?" She pressed, agitated by the notion that he knew of this crippling secret which would surely wound the hearts of the family she had grown close to.

He sighed and reluctantly admitted, "He told Mr Madison, Vice President Jefferson and I of this in person. I suppose he doubted we'd honour our vow of secrecy, though it seems strange he should wait so long to reveal the truth."

Hamilton's motivation for such an act was trivial to his daughter. Instead, she insisted, "How could you know without ever telling Mrs Hamilton? She was here for dinner just weeks ago, you might have warned her! How terrible it must be to see your relationship dragged through the mud in the press without even a hint that this storm was headed for her."

He winced, visibly regretting that he had somehow caused Theo distress. But he had to justify himself, "I believed this to be a matter best left undisturbed, hence my silence. I recommended he do the same, but Alexander Hamilton has never heeded my advice." He paused, clearly an old wound on his pride brushed over by that comment. "I've held my tongue for years because I wanted to save the shame of this scandal for the Hamiltons - you remember a long time ago I spoke of representing Miss Maria Reynolds in her divorce?"

Her eyes widened at his use of the now-infamous name as one he was personally acquainted with. Her recollection of the name which had seemed so mundane and insignificant at the time she had first heard it many moons ago, when her dear departed mother had mentioned it to Mr Hamilton in order to persuade him to be respectful of her father. Or more precisely, it now emerged, to blackmail him. She nodded, speechless, silently urging him to continue.

"Well, I naturally required her to tell me the circumstances which led to her request for a divorce, and the poor woman told me the story of her abusive husband and her affair with the powerful politician who was the first man to show her a shred of compassion in years." He recognized the sneer of disapproval on Theodosia's face, and quickly explained, "I don't blame her. What choice did she have but to look for comfort in any place she found it, even if that place was a in married man's arms? He should have known better than to take advantage of her precarious situation."

That makes sense... I suppose she would do anything at all if her situation was desperate enough, she decided, slowly nodding in agreement. Sadly, she murmured, "That doesn't make it any less awful for his family, however."

Burr smiled at her generous care about that family, though it was edged with his own disappointment in their suffering. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and agreed, "I know, Dear. I hope they're coping alright."

 _I hope Philip isn't too upset._ It was definitely too much to hope the endlessly kind Elizabeth would not be tragically affected by the revelation, but perhaps her friend might manage better.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Theo excused herself to answer it.

Standing on her doorstep was the very boy she'd been thinking of just seconds earlier. He wore a sheepish smile as he asked, "Have you read it?"

She looked at him sympathetically and opened her arms, offering him an embrace which he gladly received. He held fast to her for a moment, and allowed a single tear to roll down his cheek while his face was hidden, buried in her shoulder. When he stepped back, he took a deep breath to steady his troubled mind, and resumed his relatively light hearted smile. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled, joking about the thing which would hurt his family for years to come.

"Yes," she confirmed. "And yet you are here when you ought to be with your family after this awful exposure?" She queried. She was of course willing to support him through the traumatic event, however she couldn't help thinking that as the eldest child, he might take some responsibility in his mother's time of need.

Instead, the nervous look returned to his unfailing smile as he answered, "I _am_ with my family." He glanced over his shoulder, and only then did she notice the cab at the end of the drive, filled with a host of Hamilton children peering curiously through the window as their older brother chatted with a mysterious young stranger. Turning back to face her, a crimson blush had surfaced upon his freckled cheeks, but despite his embarrassment at being such an attentive sibling, he invited, "We wondered if you might like to come to the park with us?"

"We have a picnic!" A young female voice shouted from the cab, the second child of the brood.

Despite the situation, Theodosia giggled at the sweet offer. "Yes, thank you. That would be lovely."

* * *

The cab had been a squeeze for seven children, including three who were well into their teens, but it was a short journey, and when Theo lounged in the warm sun, eyes blissfully closed as she bit into a strawberry, it was definitely worth a moment of discomfort. Additionally, being in such close proximity to the gaggle of Hamilton children meant that she quickly became acquainted with all of them.

"Teddy," as the younger children had affectionately christened her, "can you pass me another biscuit?" The five year old John pleaded, tugging at her skirts.

"Don't bother her, get one yourself," Philip instructed his younger brother sternly. He loved all his siblings, but he didn't want them to take lazy liberties with his friend, especially because he was surprised she'd agreed to come at all; he was determined to ensure his siblings didn't embarrass him in front of her.

Yet she was past the point of judging the family, and laughed at the way he stepped in as their authority figure. "I think I'm capable of handing him a biscuit, Philip!" She teased, and reached for one. However, before passing it to him she checked, "I think you forgot a certain word, though..."

The little boy frowned before he realised enthusiastically, "Please!" She nodded and handed him his reward, and he remembered to thank her, too.

"So Teddy, why does my brother never mention you?" Angelica asked, helping herself to a sandwich as she adressed the girl who was only a year older than herself.

That took the other girl by surprise, and she turned to Philip with raised eyebrows as she replied, "I have no idea. I thought we were friends, but perhaps you'd care to enlighten us?"

He chuckled nervously, blushing slightly - he seemed so easily flustered when surrounded by his siblings and his friend, as if he felt he had something to prove to her. "We _are_ friends... I, well it's... I -"

Theodosia's eyebrows raised impossibly higher as she waited for a coherent answer; little did she know that his awkward response was not because he had no way of justifying his rumoured silence with regards to her, but because Angelica had very knowingly lied, giving him no option but to refute her claim and reveal that he in fact spoke of little else but Theo.

Yet her struggling brother clearly had no intention of doing so, therefore the impatient young girl sighed with exasperation as she explained herself, "That was a joke. He always talks about you. Truly, _always_. All day long, seven days a week, ever since he went to your dinner party it's _Theo says this, Theo says that_ \- you really ought to have a word with him!" She teased, grinning playfully despite her seemingly harsh words. Obviously she was not annoyed by her brother's blatant admiration of the girl, in fact she had wanted to shift the conversation more _towards_ that admiration. As Theo laughed, she offered with innocent wide eyes and a mischievous smirk, "Perhaps my little brothers and I should play a game and leave you two to finish the picnic." She gave an exaggerated wink to Philip, who rolled his eyes at her immaturity, and took Alexander and James' hands, running away from the blanket knowing that little John would follow, feeling left out. Only the sleeping baby William Stephen was left in the company of the teenagers, clearly too young to participate in the boisterous games of his sister, but also unable to understand any of the words which passed between his remaining baby sitters.

Once the group was beyond earshot, Philip apologised, "I'm so sorry about Angie and John and all of them, really. I love them, but they can be stupid, I mean they've been treating you like a new toy, which is ridiculous because I've _told_ them you're _definitely_ not an inanimate object. Which is not to say I've been talking about you as much as Angelica says I have, the little liar, because I haven't because that would be weird, I only -"

"Philip, please!" Theodosia pushed him backwards to silence him, giggling hysterically as he fell to lay on the blanket. Once she collected herself, she explained, "You were babbling. Honestly, you don't need to apologise, I think your siblings are all so sweet." She would never admit it, and she would never have wanted it to change, but being an only child - other than her mother's grown children whom she'd never met - she'd often thought she might enjoy the company of a group of other young people. Now she realized she _did_ enjoy it, although not on a permanent basis.

Philip looked about to disagree, but seemed to think better of it. "Thanks," he replied bashfully. But he became genuine as he continued, "Really, thank you for coming. I wanted to get them all away from the house today before they read that bloody pamphlet, and give my mother a chance to gather her thoughts without a bunch of screaming children getting in her way. But I didn't want to be alone with no one else who understood."

"Well I _do_ understand," Theo comforted him compassionately, deciding to lay down beside where she had toppled him over so that she could meet his troubled gaze as she spoke to him. Now his siblings were gone, he was unafraid to allow his cheerful disguise to fade away to reveal his inner conflict in those golden orbs. "I'm glad you came to me, I was worried about you."

"Don't fret over _me_ , it's my _mother_ I'm most concerned about. I thought of writing to her sister in London, but I remembered she is already on her way home, so my aunt Angelica will be here to help her soon, but even so, she's just had a baby, and now this has happened..." He frowned, puzzled, as he pondered, "I have no idea why he chose suddenly to publish the details of his affair now. It was years ago, surely he could have let it be, but instead he suddenly deems it necessary to write about being unfaithful!" His voice gradually grew in volume as he vented his confusion to her.

Hesitantly, she shared the news her father had revealed to her earlier: "Mr Jefferson, Mr Madison and my father apparently knew of it, though Daddy swears that they agreed to keep his private life... Well, private."

"He has always been paranoid, especially where any of those three are concerned. I guess he would rather shame himself than let others do it for him," he realised, voicing some of his father's disdain for the three puppet masters as he spoke of them. Clearly, he was right to confide his fears to Theodosia, who was still one of the most intelligent people he'd ever met, and now provided useful insights into the predicament.

However, Theo quickly defended her father, noticing a hint of bitterness as Philip spoke of Burr and his Republican comrades, "My father isn't the villain of the piece, it's _yours_ who decided to wreak havoc in spite of the promise the three of them made," she insisted, to which Philip did nothing but nod. _He doesn't want to see the very worst in his father, and that's fine,_ she told herself, deciding to let it rest. Uncomfortable even so at letting the conversation loiter around her own dear father's involvement, she asked instead, "After all these weeks, you never _did_ tell me about boarding school. What's it like?"

Philip shrugged, silently relieved for the new conversational topic, and replied, "It's good, I really feel like I'm being pushed to learn a lot, and I have a lot of friends who I just know are going to be in positions of power one day."

"People like you, then -" at his cocked brow, she laughed and demanded, "don't look at me so sceptically, you know as well as I do that you're going to blow us all away when you're grown!"

He smirked, "Maybe." His amusement faded as he explained, "There's another side to it, though. I miss my family back home, and I feel like I've been left out of a lot since I've been away. And..." it was a subject he'd learned not to be sore about, but one he wanted to confront, albeit with great anxiety, "I missed your letters. I understand that you were too upset to write, I'm only saying that I wish you hadn't been."

 _The letters. Too sad to write. Not quite the case, I'm afraid._.. Theodosia instantly felt guilty for inflicting that forlorn shadow upon her friend. He would forgive her for the truth, she was certain, and so she had to be honest. Taking a deep breath, she revealed, "I _was_ unable to write while you were here. But when I heard you were leaving, Daddy came to me and advised that I stopped contacting you. I didn't want to, and now you're back in my life I know I'd never sacrifice our friendship again, but at the time it made sense." His expression was suddenly misted over with an impenetrable fog, and she had to tentatively ask, "Are you angry at me?"

Philip sat up as though shocked by a small bolt of electricity, and Theo quickly mirrored him. There wasn't exactly the anger she'd feared, but there was distinct frustration in his voice as he animatedly answered, "I'm annoyed at _him_! Your father, Aaron Burr, Sir, what does he have against my family and I that makes him so desperate to separate us? I never did a thing to make him suspicious of me other than bear my family name, and even if he judges me by looking at my father, it's not as though he's done anything particularly awful until this dreaded affair!"

Theodosia sighed, comforting him with a hand placed on his knee. They were talking about that article which distressed him so much again, and she hated that she could do nothing to ease his irritation. Instead, she imparted another piece of honesty gathered from her earlier discussion with Aaron. "My father knew long before today, he handled Mrs Reynolds' divorce years ago. I wouldn't be surprised if he harboured doubts about the quality of your character ever since he discovered Mr Hamilton's involvement with her."

Philip slumped back down onto the blanket, defeated by the incomprehensible, unjustifiable mistake his father had made. "I suppose you're probably right," he admitted.

Theodosia too returned to lay by his side, poking his shoulder playfully as she teased, "Probably?"

Rolling his eyes, he submitted with an entertained smirk, "Fine, you _are_ right. You're just the smartest girl in the entire universe, aren't you?"

"Maybe," she smiled, equally amused.

They remained in silence for a minute, both perfectly satisfied to be in one another's company on that brilliantly sunny summer day. Glancing over to the young man at her side, she noticed how the sunlight brought his freckles out more clearly on his tanned skin, and made his hazel eyes appear green. But he caught he inspecting him, and she looked away before she had the opportunity to fully appreciate his attractive face.

Philip was the one to break the peaceful quiet with a murmur as he promised, "I know our fathers argue a lot. But I won't let it come between us if you won't."

"I won't," Theodosia agreed as soon as the words left his lips. Over the summer, they'd bonded to become closer than ever, and she definitely had no desire to lose her best friend because of petty disagreements between their families.

"Good," Philip nodded, satisfied.

"Teddy! Philip! You're missing the game!" A demanding shout from across the park set both teenagers bolting upright in unison to see Angelica running towards them. The girl was persued by her little brothers, who it seemed had planned a mutiny of sorts, changing the rules of tag and instead chasing the one who was supposed to be hunting them down. As the Hamilton girl breathlessly reached the blanket, she reached for the older teenagers' hands, pulling both of them to their feet to groans of complaint from Philip and laughter from Theo.

"You have to help me get them," she gasped, grinning excitedly while her eyes darted frantically between her fast-approaching brothers.

"Okay," Theodosia agreed, and immediately set about chasing the nearest, Alexander, who froze in absolute panic the moment he realised the tables had turned.

Philip went for James, who squealed and turned away to run in mad circles as his brother targeted him, and Angelica was left to catch John. The game had shifted to surround the blanket, where the baby slept peacefully, oblivious to his joyful siblings dashing maniacally around him.

As he stopped momentarily to catch his breath, Philip took a moment to fully recognize his success: _this is what we all needed. We're having fun, being kids, none of them need to know about Dad, and soon Mom will be okay too. And I helped to make it so._

Theodosia skidded to a halt beside him, steadying herself by clutching his shoulder. "Come on, slow coach!" She taunted, before sprinting away laughing as Alexander persued hot on her tail, every bit as hyper as the girl he reached out for.

Seeing his brother's delight, Philip corrected himself, _I may have helped, but it was her who really made this day._

* * *

 **A/N: Why did Alexander wait so long after he told the big three about the affair to publish the pamphlet? Well, Chernow reckons he wrote it at federalist paper speed, but waited until after the baby was born to be sure that the stress didn't make Eliza miscarry again. Alexander Hamilton, ruining lives in the most thoughtful way possible since 1797!**

 **Also, Burr's views on Maria mentioned here are my views... as Lin says, a) she loved him and b) she didn't know any better.**

 **Thanks so much for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	8. Chapter 8 - A revel with a rebel

**A/N: Hi reader! Hope you're doing well. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this, I really appreciate it! And I love writing this story, hence the increase in update regularity. I will try to continue to add as much as I can whenever I can, although things are a bit busy and hectic at the moment. But your support is unbelievable, so honestly I am so grateful for every person who reads this.**

 **Don't worry, this chapter isn't properly sad, but it's kinda emotional. (I cried, but I'm kinda pathetic so make of that what you will.)**

 **Anyway, let's get on with this 5000 (!) word chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 8 - Autumn 1797

 _Dear Theodosia,_

 _I am writing to formally invite you and your father to my home, where as you know, my mother and aunts have insisted on holding a gathering of close friends and family to see me back off to school. I think it's definitely over the top, after all, I'll be back by Christmas and I'm sure it will fly by, but even so, there's no appeasing them. Between you and I, I believe this is my mother's attempt to present a brave face to our nearest and dearest, so it would mean a lot if you could make it._

 _Kind regards,_

 _Your Philip Hamilton._

* * *

"Philip! Come downstairs, we need to talk to you!" A bright, sunny voice adressed the teenager from downstairs: only his aunt Peggy had that level of unfailing optimism in a time of such turmoil for the family, and she had been enormously helpful to his mother. His father, on the other hand, existed only within his office while he was home, and spent a far greater portion of his days at work.

Philip took his time standing from his desk, reluctant to feel the same aching helplessness he always experienced when seeing his mother radiating sorrow since the pamphlet had been published. Her sisters never left her side, so he knew going to his aunt would also unavoidably involve witnessing Elizabeth's agony.

"Philip Hamilton, if you don't come downstairs this instant then I'll lock you up there and you'll not even make it back to boarding school!" The demanding voice of his other aunt as she made the empty threat reached effortlessly up to his bedroom as well as filling most of the house. Knowing full well that it was never a good idea to disobey the boldest of the sisters, Angelica Schuyler Church, he stood and obliged, heading down to the kitchen where she waited with Eliza and Peggy.

"What is it, Auntie?" He enquired, not quite sure what had required his attention so urgently.

"We bought a suit for you, it's imperative that you try it on so that we can return it if it doesn't fit you," his aunt Peggy informed him, gesturing towards a large box sitting on the table.

The young boy just managed to restrain the urge to groan at the unnecessary fuss the three women were making over his upcoming departure, because he knew it would cause offense. Even so, something in his eyes was enough to communicate to the perceptive trio that he was irritated by the exaggerated effort, exacerbated by the fact that not just his adoring mother was involved in making the arrangements, but also her encouraging sisters. Elizabeth flinched as she realized.

Instantly both women were touching her, slight reassurances from her sisters that she should ignore his protests. Even so, Eliza's voice trembled slightly as she disciplined him, "This may not matter to you, but you will be dearly missed by your family, and I would hope that you are thoughtful enough to endure our farewell gathering for our sakes if not for your own." Even now, her eyes were slightly glassy, tears prepared to fall at the tiniest knock to her already fractured heart, and Philip felt guiltily reminded of just how fragile she was at that sensitive time.

 _It makes sense she should struggle more now than she ever has before,_ he realised, more than aware of the crippling effects his father's unveiled affair had on his mother. "Of course, Mother. I'm sorry, I truly appreciate how much effort you are going to for my benefit, I only feel guilty that you are doing so much," he bowed his head respectfully to the three women's request.

Eliza managed a weak smile of appreciation - she ought to have known her caring son would never intentionally scorn something she invested so much effort into, and Philip released an involuntary sigh of relief that he had seemingly avoided being lashed by the occasionally sharp tongues of his aunts for his careless behaviour. Or so he thought, before he noticed the eldest exchange a meaningful glance with the youngest.

"Eliza dear, we should see that the baby is alright," Peggy suggested, linking her arm with her older sister's and leading her almost forcefully from the room. Elizabeth of course recognized the swift intentional evacuation from the room for what it was, however her usually bright mind was so dulled with defeat that she didn't make the connection between leaving Angelica and Philip alone and the fact that it left her son open to a gentle but firm scolding from her protective sister.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Angelica crossed her arms over her chest, silently stating her disapproval of her nephew's thoughtless rejection of the one thing which had distracted his mother from the all-consuming fire which burned within her heart, feeding on her happiness and leaving only grey ash and an empty shell of the woman she once was. She waited with a cocked brow for him to speak.

Eventually, he tentatively apologised, "I know my leaving again is hard for mother, and I should do all I can to make it easier for her. I'm sorry I was reluctant, but I promise I'll enjoy myself."

"Yes, you will. I know you'd rather she didn't make a fuss, but I don't think I need to tell you that she _has_ to, if only to keep her mind from lingering too long on more depressing subjects.

"I know, Auntie," he agreed, genuinely ashamed that he'd only realized during the past minute that a distraction had been precisely what the celebration was. She still fixed him with a certain look of scepticism, so he offered, "I think it will be nice to have a real opportunity to say goodbye to everyone."

She nodded approvingly, her stern frown she always wore when one of her sisters had been slighted disappearing and being replaced with a kind smile. "I'm glad you're coming round to the idea. We couldn't have you complaining about it when your guests are here!"

A thought struck Philip: they were holding his farewell gathering on the last night before his departure, a time when he definitely wanted to have the opportunity to speak to all of his loved ones. Including the one who had driven a deep rift within the family. Hesitating and very much afraid of the answer, he asked, "Will my father be welcome?"

Just as quickly as it came, Angelica's smile melted away to be replaced with an unreadable expression. Her eyes were dark and impenetrable as she flatly replied, "He is your father. He must attend."

"But is that alright?" Philip pressed, needing an answer however difficult it might be.

Slowly, Angelica nodded. "I'm sure he will be perfectly civil." She saw his discomfort at the mere idea of making his poor mother spend an evening in the company of the man who'd barely made an appearance at the family home since the publication of his exposing document, much less socialized amongst friends and family for hours. It was a discomfort which the protective sisters shared, and Angelica empathized with his selfless sensitivity. She touched his shoulder and reassuringly promised, "Peggy and I will see to it that your mother is well too."

Anyone who knew her knew how she always honoured her word, so that assurance was enough to ease Philip's doubts and raise a smile. "Very well. I suppose I should try on my suit, then?" He suggested, to which his aunt nodded and stroked his dark curls affectionately.

Angelica passed him the box, and he made to exit the room, but she stopped him. "Philip, thank you for being so thoughtful," she murmured quietly, causing him to turn around, slightly puzzled at the hint of sadness in her voice. But she recognized his confusion, and immediately amended herself, smiling as she briskly told him, "You should be proud. You have every bit of your mother's caring soul."

"Thank you, Auntie," he nodded, and backed out of the room to return to his bedroom to check the fit of his new outfit.

Watching him leave, Angelica knew she was right: _He truly is as kind-hearted as Eliza. Don't let the pride inherited from his father distract from his mother's perfection evidently present in him._

* * *

 _Dear Philip,_

 _My father and I would both be delighted to attend and say our fond goodbyes. I fear you might be quite right about your mother wanting to prove that she is coping, so please don't begrudge her. And for goodness' sake, don't let your aunts see your reluctance - you might think I'm being pedantic, but I believe my scolding will be much better than theirs! That is, unless you show your lack of enthusiasm before you receive this... I hope I'm not too late!_

 _Kind regards,_

 _Your Theodosia Burr_

* * *

The evening of the celebration was still sunny, but with a definite chill which forewarned the upcoming colder portion of the year. Philip wore the new suit, which he liked a great deal more than he showed. He had to admit, the pale indigo looked very smart on him, and he was more than satisfied with his appearance. However, regardless of how he looked, the evening was not to be as pleasant as he might have hoped.

His father strayed into the living room for what felt like the first time in months, holding himself with his usual air of confidence, though his eyes held a deep brooding despair, and they darted around the room determined to look anywhere but the two piercing pairs of eyes glaring with disgust from either side of the woman who was simply unable to lift her gaze from the ground for fear of seeing him.

Before anyone arrived, only those four adults and his younger siblings were in the room, and all the children's regular playfulness was heavily subdued by the blatant tension between their parents. It was a relief when there came a sharp knock on the door, so much so that Philip volunteered to answer it himself before anyone else could even move from the room. All of the anxiety visibly lifted from his shoulders as he opened the door to see his best friend waiting on the other side, Aaron Burr in tow.

"Theo," he grinned as he spoke her name like a magic word, some mystical incantation capable of whisking away all his troubles as soon as she materialized before him.

"Philip," she returned with equal pleasure, glad to be there for him; though she knew he was capable of withstanding the storm within his family, she worried for him as any good friend does, and she was relieved to see a smile on his lips.

"Mr Hamilton," Burr greeted the boy, offering a hand which Philip shook politely. He wore his usual guarded smile, and it didn't escape the notice of the teenagers that in reaching across to shake the young man's hand, he placed himself between the boy and his daughter.

"Mr Burr, sir, it's good of you to come," Philip answered, formally addressing the man who he knew was dubious about just how proper any child of Alexander Hamilton really could be. _Prove any preconceptions wrong,_ the young man reminded himself. Not that he would have been rude to him without that particular motivation driving him - not only was Philip an aspiring gentleman, but also blessed with the intelligence to recognize that verbally attacking the man would be as good as a death sentence to his cherished friendship with Theodosia.

But even knowing that, he struggled to refrain from asking exactly what the man was insinuating when Burr coolly replied, "I could hardly leave my little girl alone here."

Theo confirmed that it wasn't simply paranoia making him read something more sinister into the snide remark as she laid a hand on Burr's forearm and warned, "Daddy, you know better than to suggest I'd be in anything less than impeccable company here, even _without_ you. Which is not to say," she continued breezily, "that I'd rather you didn't attend. And seeing as we're here, I think we should go inside rather than hold our own party on the doorstep, don't you?" Her smart reply put a stop to any further goading from Burr, and though he frowned momentarily at the way she invited herself inside as though the familiar house was her own home, he decided to attempt to remain as calm as possible for the remainder of the evening.

Theo and Philip walked side by side to the room where his family was congregated, and he leaned over to quietly mutter in her ear, "Thank you for stopping him."

"He has no right to judge you," she murmured in reply, with a shrug so miniscule her father didn't even register it. "Nice suit, by the way," she nodded approvingly, which did earn Burr's attention, as well as a blush from her friend who couldn't pinpoint why exactly her praise meant so much to him.

That obvious admiration of the Hamilton boy he could view as nothing less than a threat to her happiness was enough to make the protective father decide that his focus for the evening would be entirely directed upon the pair. And though Aaron Burr entered the room and approached his acquaintance, the young boy's father whose morals he severely judged, he barely lifted his gaze from Philip for the entirety of the night.

* * *

As the room filled with cheerful faces and the tension was diluted with the addition of people other than the glowering sisters and the target of their loathing, the children's shyness began to fade, until they felt boisterous enough to rush around the room, creating a swirl of motion as the young children of varying ages and sizes dashed around the room to greet familiar relatives just like the eldest son did, though Philip conducted his conversations in a much less chaotic manner, before hurrying on to the next one, laughing and adding to the hubbub of noise and sociable chatter.

Not only did they add energy and elevate the atmosphere with their innocent presence, but their scampering to an fro also distracted Burr from his hawkish watching of his daughter and her best friend from time to time.

During one such time, Philip turned to Theodosia, bemused as he checked, "Can I expect your father to stare at me all night long? Do I need to request an extra bed so that he can come and watch me at boarding school, too?" He was teasing, of course, but there was an undeniable element of truth to his joke.

Theodosia rolled her eyes and dug an elbow into his side, earning a squeak of protest, and she laughed smugly as she insisted, "I don't think my father would want to stay with someone who squeals like a little piglet!"

"Firstly, you don't know your own strength, because that was more painful than you might think. And secondly, he literally hasn't stopped looking at me apart from when he's been physically incapable of doing so," he complained, and his pitiful whining did nothing to convince her that he was tougher than his squeal indicated.

"Don't overreact, I'm sure he's just thinking of how terribly he'll miss you when you're gone," she replied tartly.

There was a pause of disbelief from Philip. Then, after a heartbeat, both guffawed at the simple notion that Burr would ever regret a Hamilton leaving. "Not likely!" Philip pointed out through his laughter, though his hazel eyes glimmered with humour as he rebuked her claim.

"Truly, I have no idea why he's decided to stare so intently, but I'm happy to just ignore it. One thing I would quite like to address, however, is the issue of your aunts and your father," she decided, quickly switching to a different topic. Lowering her voice despite the volume, she enquired, "How are things going?"

Philip grimaced as he admitted, "I don't think my parents have exchanged a single word, though I can't say the same for my Father and Aunt Angelica. You should have heard them a few nights ago..." He shuddered involuntarily as he recalled the sound of Angelica shouting relentless insults and criticisms at his father, and even more disturbingly, the complete lack of defence from the man who could never stand for his reputation to be scorned or tarnished. But even the arrogant Alexander Hamilton knew his actions were indefensible, and the only person tearing his good name to tatters was himself.

Theodosia touched a comforting hand to his shoulder as his eyes darkened with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Philip."

He shrugged, managing a smile as he explained, "At least _I_ can get away from it. I can't say the same for my siblings, I wish they weren't stuck here. But I know their marriage will recover one day because they love each other, so I don't feel too bad for leaving. In a way, I'm glad I can escape and miss the worst of it." He noticed with odd relief that Theodosia appeared slightly saddened by that, and he quickly assured, "I'm not pleased to be leaving _you_ , however."

Theo smirked and confirmed, "You'd better not be."

At that moment, he felt a familiar tingling sensation at the back of his neck, and knew without turning around to see for himself that Burr's prying eyes had found them again. Even so, he leaned in as if confiding in her and promised, "I _will_ write to you. We won't drift apart this time."

Theodosia barely had time to nod before Burr called her name, and she glanced over her shoulder to see what he wanted. "I should go," she muttered, distracted, and began to walk towards her father, commenting teasingly as she left, "I can't steal your attention _all_ night long!"

She was right, there were still several guests he had yet to greet. But as he approached a new person and began engaging in conversation, he couldn't help but wish his best friend was still by his side.

* * *

It wasn't too much later that Theo returned to him again, this time with Burr beside her. Philip looked up at the tall man, recognizing his smile as false and empty, judging by his unreadable eyes.

"Philip, father says we need to go home," Theodosia explained, taking Philip's curious gaze from the man and back to his daughter. The same deep brown eyes met his, but unlike Aaron's, hers shone with warmth, kindness, and just a hint of regret: she would gladly have stayed until the second Philip departed from his home, but her father had insisted they leave at that moment.

The intelligent boy could envisage the debate which had ensued between them as though he'd witnessed it himself - Theodosia begging to stay just a little while longer, Burr warning her that she'd be tired the next day, Theodosia insisting she'd be fine and her pleas falling on deaf ears. He was equally reluctant to say goodbye to her, having hoped she'd stay for the entirety of the event. But he knew better than to argue with Aaron Burr's wishes. _On the rare occasion that he sets his mind on something, I suppose I should submit,_ he decided bitterly. "Of course. Let me show you out," he offered, as an afterthought holding his arm out for Theo to take. The overly gentlemanly gesture elicited a giggled from her as she accepted his arm. He thought he heard Burr sigh in frustration, but it might have been a general noise from the gaggle of gathered guests. Yet the idea that he had caused some irritation to the man whose prying eyes had made the evening, which was already laden with tension between his parents, slightly more uncomfortable brought him a small sense of satisfaction, and he couldn't resist allowing a smug smirk from playing on his lips.

On the doorstep, however, his mischief faded to be replaced with sincerity as he faced Theo. He tried to speak, to offer her a light hearted goodbye, but the words caught in his throat and he found himself speechless with emotion. His hazel eyes widened helplessly as he tried and failed to say a single word.

Theo let him struggle for a moment, bemused, before mercifully filling the wordless space with her own farewell. "Good luck at School, Philip. I know you'll do wonderful things."

The formality in her voice was unexpected, and didn't at all match the affectionate light in her eyes or her bittersweet smile, until Philip remembered the imposing figure of Burr was waiting a few steps behind her. _At least he has the decency not to loom directly over us,_ he thought, trying to ignore him. He rediscovered his ability to speak, and agreed, "I'll be sure to m-" _make you proud_ "-do my best," he corrected himself, unwilling to cause any further annoyance from the man who was surely eavesdropping. "Don't forget to write," he warned.

"Of course not," she agreed, nodding enthusiastically. She, too, was hesitant to say much more of the emotive goodbye her heart longed to pour open.

And so, neither said anything, letting an eerie quiet heavy with words left unsaid hang between them, only their eyes capable of communicating any of the mutual sorrow both of them faced at the idea of his leaving.

After a few seconds, Theodosia chuckled half-heartedly and suggested, "I think we'll be returning home, then."

"Yes," Philip choked, words struggling to materialize on his lips again.

"Goodbye, Philip," Theodosia murmured, forcing a smile for his sake. _He might just break if I can't be happy for him,_ she realized, the thought which prompted her to recreate the same mask her father was so practiced at presenting.

"Goodbye, Theodosia. Mr Burr, Sir." Philip replied. The man nodded stiffly, genuinely regretting that he didn't trust the boy to conduct his farewell respectfully without his protective paternal guarding. He was not blind to the obvious wish to say more held by both teenagers, yet it didn't soften his firm decision to protect Theodosia from anything and _anyone_ who might ever cause her harm.

With that, father and daughter walked away.

Philip gazed after them, heart weighed down with yearning. _I know I would have had to say goodbye sooner or later anyway. I just wish it might have been the latter option,_ he tried to console himself.

"I'm sorry about Burr." Philip turned with a start, unaware of his companion, but he relaxed as he recognized his father, standing just behind him. "I fear he might have stayed longer if not for me."

"You were talking with him all evening," Philip pointed out. "He would have surely left sooner had you not."

Hamilton looked shamefully towards the ground as he admitted, "The reason we spoke was because he was the only man in that room who doesn't completely detest me, and he was merciful enough to entertain my pathetic whining when he knew no one else would."

 _Well, do you expect mother's friends and family to be falling over themselves to congratulate you on your latest publication?_ He thought sarcastically, but he bit his tongue out of respect. Instead, he replied, "That was thoughtful of him."

"Indeed. But son, if he didn't know how reckless I can be, I think he might be less determined to come between you and your Theodosia." He explained apologetically.

"She's not _my_ Theodosia, she's her own woman. And of course he's protective, she's all he has left of his wife," he defended the man. Though he was aware of Burr's lack of trust in him, he could tell it was his intentions to look after his little girl which made him so ridiculously defensive, not malice or spite.

"It's no excuse to punish you! You must not let his idiocy take her from you!" For the first time since the pamphlet was published, a spark of Hamilton's former self, the aggressive, stubborn man who was fiercely loyal to his family and aggressively proud of his son appeared... Along with a glint of an idea as he mused, "You _will_ not let that happen." His eyes became busy with activity as a plan hatched in his mind.

"Pops, what is it?" Philip asked, slightly concerned about whatever his father had concocted - after all, his last brilliant idea shattered the family apart. In fact, this was the first actual conversation the two Hamiltons had since the Reynolds pamphlet was made public.

"Wait. I'll explain later, we can't do anything immediately because I fear your mother would throw a fit if you leave your own celebration." He grunted and rubbed his arm, recalling his sister in law's assault as he suggested, "Your aunts might _actually_ throw something, too." Bitter as the memory was, he smiled as Philip chuckled at the suggestion. He'd made his son laugh. He was finally doing something right, for what felt like the first time in decades.

Caught up in the dreamlike euphoria of actually being something like the man his family deserved, he took Philip's shoulders firmly between his hands as he firmly insisted, "I will not let you down. I'm going to fix this... I'm going to fix everything." Something about the set of his jaw promised that he didn't just mean the Burr situation.

And Philip believed him. "I know, Pops."

And with that, the tangle of his internal conflict about his feelings towards his father became clear: he loved his father, and more than that, he forgave him.

* * *

 _Knock, knock._

A pause.

Then again, _knock, knock._

 _Knockknockknockknockknock_.

 _If that's who I think it is..._ Aaron Burr darkly thought, rubbing at his eyes made bleary with exhaustion.

"Sir, it's me! Can we confer?"

 _Well, I'll be damned, it is._

He thought of ignoring it, but he'd learned long ago that the man could never back down or give up, and would stay there through until dawn if it meant he'd eventually get his way. So, Aaron Burr lifted himself from his bed and made himself presentable before traipsing downstairs to open the door.

"Alexander," he yawned as his eyes confirmed the nightmare existed not in the world of sleep, but in the world of wakefulness.

"Aaron Burr, Sir." Alexander grinned ridiculously, too irritatingly wide awake considering the godforsaken hour for no reason Burr could comprehend. But the adrenaline of knowing that as he distracted Burr on the doorstep, his son was entering through the old library window leant him a burst of energy as he launched into his tirade which he had planned to occupy his audience for sufficiently long enough for Philip to say goodbye to Theo _properly_.

* * *

Philip tackled the window just as he'd managed years ago, though it was more of a squeeze now for his grown body. He toppled clumsily onto the floor and heard the faint sound of his father's voice drifting in. Feeling sure of Burr's distraction, he made his way into the hallway and glanced around.

No light came from under any door on the ground floor, so he began to ascend the stairs, uncomfortable at sneaking uninvited around the place but determined to see his friend. Hamilton's words echoed in his head, prompting him to keep going, _you must not let his idiocy take her from you. I don't expect Theo will mind_ , he justified, scanning around at the top of the stairs. The soft orange glow of candlelight escaped from the crack under one door, and he selected that one to push open.

The young girl on the other side didn't seem anywhere near as surprised as she should have been at the young intruder arriving, and she simply remarked, "I almost expected you."

"I... _what_?" Philip was stopped short.

"It's been so long since your father came knocking at our door in the dead of night that I suspected something might be going on," she explained with a shrug. She stood, grinning smugly at her deductions, and quickly ran towards him, enveloping him in a crushingly tight embrace. "Please don't stand dumbstruck again, I don't think we'll have very long at all," she murmured into his jacket as she burried her face against him, making sure to form the most accurate memory of her best friend, his shape and his scent and the soft curls which reached down his back.

Her encouragement chased his shock away, and he returned the embrace with matching enthusiasm, not letting go as he answered, "In which case, I'd better tell you that I don't know how I would have coped without you this summer, with the pamphlet and everything, and I'm so grateful for your friendship."

"And I'm grateful for yours. You're so kind and funny and sweet, and I swear I won't let it slip away this time," Theo promised, still clinging to his body.

"Thank you," he murmured gently, relieved for the verbal confirmation of something he was already certain of. "And I won't forget your intelligence and warmth. Or your talent as a pianist," he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere; though it was only a temporary parting, it was difficult for both teenagers who'd grown so close, and their sadness was palpable.

But Theodosia released her hold on him, and gazed into his eyes as she insisted, "Please don't forget _your_ talents as a pianist either. It means so much..." She broke eye contact as a tear threatened to roll down her cheek.

Philip crouched down to find his way into her line of view again, making her meet his honest golden gaze as he agreed, "I know it does. I won't forget, I swear it." He straightened up as she smiled, and offered her a hand to shake, sealing the promise.

"You must keep it, now that you've given it," Theodosia reminded him, referring to the days when their friendship had been in it's infancy and Philip had quizzed her with that little riddle.

"I know," Philip nodded, fondly recalling the answer with ease, as though it had been yesterday and not years ago. _I have to keep my_ word _, and I intend to._

Feeling their time was coming to an end, he bent over, lifted the hand he had been shaking to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her soft skin. Theodosia giggled, enjoying how mature his actions made her feel, and hardly noticed the way her breath halted for a heartbeat at the lingering contact.

And then he had straightened up and released her hand, and began to walk away, too nervous of discovery to remain any longer. "Goodbye, Theodosia. Take good care of yourself," he bid her farewell as he opened her door.

"Goodbye Philip. You too," she returned, watching him leave.

Downstairs, Aaron Burr stood oblivious to their heartfelt goodbyes, falsely convinced that the only Hamilton within the perimeter of his land was the one talking with a ceaseless river of words on his doorstep. And Philip wasn't exactly proud to admit that he got a small rush of happiness knowing that Burr's assumption was wrong.

* * *

 **A/N wow, I have important drama coursework and extensive planning for my history controlled assessment to get done today, and I've literally spent half the day writing and formatting this... no regrets!**

 **...**

 **Several regrets. But it's worth it!**


	9. Chapter 9 - It's been so long

**A/N: Hey reader! Thanks for being a reader! I think you're the best reader of all the readers (just don't tell the other readers!)**

 **Yup, this took almost a week. But I was very busy, and I am trying my best! So thanks for your support, it really does more than you know!**

 **In this chapter, HamBurr talk about Hammy's plan to establish a standing army. He was really excited for it irl but nothing really came of it, which made him sad. And Theo discovers some strange kind of feeling! (Can you guess what it is?)**

 **By the way, I know this is the longest note ever, but have you listened to the workshop version of Schuyler defeated? It's on YouTube, I discovered it the other day and it gave me so many Theodosia senior feels! So if you miss her, I would recommend it!**

 **Anyway, onwards!**

* * *

Chapter 9 - Winter 1797

The icy winter had firmly asserted it's grip on New York, the city clasped tightly between it's frozen talons, yet Philip Hamilton didn't feel the cold as he walked the familiar path he knew as well as the one to his own front door. But his own front door was not the one for which he was headed, rather it was that of his best friend. He had returned home from boarding school the previous day, and both teenagers had upheld their vow to maintain their friendship over the distance placed between them since he left at the start of September. Therefore he was excited to be returning, knowing a warm reception would be awaiting him, from Theodosia at least. Her father was another matter, and though formality was almost guaranteed, civility was not, because at his side walked Alexander Hamilton.

Hamilton's intentions of visiting Aaron Burr were simple enough: he wanted only to discuss his plans for a standing army with a man who, like him, had fought in the revolution and was all too familiar with the trouble of forming a ragtag volunteer army of poorly trained men too prone to deserting at the slightest encounter with trouble. However, discussions between the two men often elevated to aggressive debates, and Philip could do nothing but hope and pray their inevitable disagreements didn't disrupt his eagerly anticipated reunion with Theo.

So different from the first time the young man had walked the path, it was Philip who spoke the words of warning, "Pops, please don't have us dragged out. You know I've been waiting so long to see Theodosia again."

Hamilton nodded without even pausing to consider refusal, willing to at least try and do anything his children requested; he had still not been forgiven by his wife, and though those of his offspring who understood what had occurred had forgiven him, he maintained that he had a lot to do in order to prove his true dedication to the family. "I know. I won't," he agreed, gazing straight ahead with the kind of intense light in his eyes which ensured he fully intended to do as he promised.

It was Philip who knocked. He knew fate well enough to realise that he would never lead the kind of simple life in which Theodosia answered and invited them inside without any of the harsh words disguised by a practiced smile which had come to embody the majority of Philip's conversations with Aaron Burr. So it was hardly surprising when the tall figure himself opened the door, his smile predictably waiting as he greeted, "Alexander. Philip. How nice of you to come."

With a touch of teasing, Hamilton asked, "Were you not expecting us?"

Burr nodded, "I was expecting _you_. Your son, on the other hand, never actually asked my permission to visit, rather I had to learn through my daughter of his intentions." It was a petty thing to point out, especially when the pair had yet to so much as set foot inside, but Burr was already being unjustly prejudiced against the young man he perceived as a threat to his little girl's happiness. _I am within my rights to expect at the very least the small courtesy of informing me that he was visiting_ , he justified to himself, noticing even as he spoke the words that his voice held a scathing edge, one he hadn't even planned to present.

"But I _did_ ask Theodosia, and I assumed that a man with your views would have no quarrel with the lady of the house inviting a guest without a man's permission," Philip challenged, defending his position.

Burr regarded him with an indecipherable look, his smile never faltering while his eyes scanned the young man. _Confident. Trying to be polite. But still argumentative_ , he decided, an unfairly strict judgment from the mind tainted with the underlying nagging worry he couldn't suppress that the boy might follow in his father's footsteps. He said nothing to Philip, only turned back to Alexander as he warned, "I hope you can make sure your son demonstrates more respect towards my daughter than he has during this little chat."

Hamilton squinted, recognizing that Burr was intentionally ignoring his son. But before he could correct him, Philip himself insisted, "If you intend to lecture me, you can do it directly, Sir. I think I can handle your criticism, however undeserved it is." Even the optimistic boy who always tried to find the best in everyone could clearly see Burr's strong dislike towards him. He meant to stay as calm and collected as Aaron Burr himself, but he couldn't prevent his volume rising ever so subtly as his frustration seeped into his words. A flicker of anger flared in Burr's eyes momentarily, and Philip couldn't help feel glad that he'd affected the man who so often went out of his way to reaffirm his definite disapproval of the teenager _. If he can't take it, he shouldn't deal it out._

His verbal reply hadn't been terribly loud. But it was loud enough that Theo heard, and came rushing to the door to meet her long-absent friend.

"Philip!" She cried, pushing past her father in her haste as she approached with an unrestrained grin on her face and flung herself into Philip's waiting embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around him and laughing in the sheer euphoria of being by his side once more.

She'd missed him, though she hadn't quite realized just how much until she heard the voice and felt her chest seem to tighten as her heart expanded while it recalled the boy it regarded so fondly.

The excitement was mutual, and Philip chuckled at her enthusiasm, holding her tight, relieved just to be holding her again, and with the sweet scent of something unfamiliar - _is she wearing perfume? Either that or she's been frolicking in a field of roses. In the dead of winter. Definitely perfume, in that case_ \- filling him with an unexpected sense of calm. When he released her, both wore matching smiles.

Though Philip's aggravation had melted away and he found himself unable to look away from Theo, Hamilton noticed with significant satisfaction that Burr's own smile had miraculously vanished without a trace.

"Oh my goodness Philip, I've missed you so much! You must tell me everything," Theodosia insisted, eyes wide and sparkling with joy: she was not quite able to believe that what she saw was real instead of another daydream of the second she'd been longing for since the moment he left her bedroom, bidding her farewell with a kiss to the hand four months ago.

"I will, I promise," Philip agreed, "But you have to tell me what _you've_ been doing, too," he demanded, suddenly a twelve year old again in his eagerness to learn all he could about the brilliant young girl with such a compelling soul.

"I told you everything in my letters, you told me next to nothing!" Theo complained, unwittingly earning her friend a suspicious look from Burr.

 _If his life is not the subject of the letters, what is?_ The overly protective father pondered, reluctant to assume that they must therefore have been love letters traded at such a tender age but unable to draw any other conclusions from the little he knew. In reality, the letters mostly consisted of jokes, riddles and declarations of how deeply the knife of separation cut both parties, with the occasional anecdote included to keep the reader updated on the events of the writer's life.

Aaron Burr was blatantly uncomfortable at the affectionate familiarity displayed between the teens, a fact which Hamilton relished. With an unabashedly smug smirk, he suggested, "Is there any point standing on the cold doorstep when we could be having this pleasant conversation inside? That is, unless you were so irate about Philip not asking your permission to visit that you retract your invitation to us both..." He continued nonchalantly. Burr stepped aside, a motion which Hamilton interpreted as welcoming despite the fact Burr's face said otherwise.

He invited himself in, stepping past Burr and continuing into the living room, letting Philip, Theodosia and Aaron follow behind him. And despite her happiness, Theo couldn't help but allow her spirits to falter slightly as a frown of concern graced her brow in reaction to her father's sigh of frustration.

* * *

"I was thinking blue. A royal blue, only not royal at all, it should be renamed revolutionary blue, and it will hark back to our days of former glory. And it should serve to remind France that we once fought by their side, inspiring guilt on their part for turning their backs."

"What?" Burr asked, deeply confused by Hamilton's sudden declaration. It had been a perfectly polite conversation for almost half an hour, with even Aaron Burr managing to uphold some semblance of polite interest when conversing with Philip, who had slowly been moving along the sofa as the time passed to sit with his shoulder brushing Theodosia's. Yet the peace was not destined to last, for Hamilton seemed to have reached his capacity for normality and was now speaking enthusiastically about a change in topic of which no one in the room had been forewarned or understood.

"The uniforms for my soldiers, when I get my army," he explained, too keen for Burr's thoughts to spare a moment to patronize him for what could be perceived as naivety: Alexander's army was the reason of his visit, not a social call.

"You don't know that Adams will even approve it, and you know his feelings towards you anyway: If he ever changes all he believes in and consents to a standing army, Washington will head it, not you," he astutely pointed out, resigned to humouring Hamilton's fantasy of reviving his military success regardless of how unlikely he considered the prospect of the dreams coming to fruition.

"Of all the people to comment on how unlikely it might be for someone to change their opinions, you are the one man on earth who has least right to criticize." He smirked teasingly, a childish action when he sat opposite an insulted frown, before formally continuing, "Adams will approve my army, because Washington supports the idea. And as for Washington leading, he has told me himself that he will not assert his authority unless it really comes to a war. For the rest of the time, I will be at the head of the army. So what are your thoughts on blue?" He repeated, feeling his confidence had been fully justified.

Still dubious, Burr mused, "Have you made your impatience and enthusiasm so obvious to Adams? I hope for your sake not..."

"Why on earth would I make him think I'm anything less than completely committed?" Hamilton retorted, swiftly losing patience with Aaron.

"Because, _Alexander_ ," Burr directly adressed him, treating him like exactly the immature, rash little boy he viewed him as in that instant, "he despises you. There is no guarantee he'd ever approve your idea, and now he knows how much it means to you I would hardly be surprised if he refused it simply to spite you. And if he does, you'll have to face the humiliation of having people see how you have been defeated in something which they all know was so important to you."

Hamilton paused, considering Burr's argument: _intelligent words, to be sure, but revolving entirely around his own approach._ Sneering and sarcastic, he rolled his eyes as he answered, "I see this is yet another one of your attempts to dampen the flame of my progressive mind with the same placid detachment which governs yours. Next you'll be telling me to talk less, that I should completely release any influence I have and become like you, too anxious to join the fray in any genuinely significant way."

Philip gently laid a hand on Theo's knee, a silent apology for his father's shameless insult. She glanced to him with her wide eyes, sad but understanding, as she laid a hand on her father's forearm, encouraging him to rise above petty disagreements for her sake.

Burr didn't need reminding, as fortunately the guest's harsh words glanced off the strong shield he had built over years of knowing the tactless man. Alexander's unwelcome comments were as predictable and repetitive as his own advice to the other man was. He only agreed, "As a matter of fact, I _do_ think you should talk less, as you are aware. But that is not because I am afraid, it is because I know better than to hand my enemies a pistol with which to shoot me. If they know all you are invested in, they know where to attack." At Hamilton's responding glare, he couldn't resist the temptation to stab at the wound which was still raw for both Hamilton men, "I don't suppose you care much for your enemies exploiting your honesty when you've done such a good job of humiliating _yourself_ already."

Daddy!" Theodosia exclaimed, outraged at her father's intentionally hurtful reference. When her reassuring hand made it's way to Philip's forearm to squeeze apologetically, she sensed him stiffen. "You should know better," she chastised her father, though she was more opposed to his statement due to the way she felt Philip's muscles tighten under her hand at the mention of the exposing paper Hamilton had published earlier in the year than the insult fired specifically at the grown adult.

Aaron removed his now-fierce gaze from Hamilton to glance at her, his eyes softening as he saw how annoyed by his behaviour she was. Reluctantly, he nodded, "You're right." Eyes narrowing and returning to look at Hamilton, he continued, "I _do_ know better."

"Of course you do," Hamilton muttered sceptically.

"Dad, remember what I asked," Philip appealed, his plea just audible in his tone. Reluctantly, his father sighed, submitting to Philip's request.

For a few seconds, a silence ensued, both men eager to voice their true opinions, yet both bound in identical chains of duty to their offspring. It was Theo who offered a reprieve, "Perhaps Philip and I should leave you both to continue your conversion alone?"

"Very well," Burr agreed, just a millisecond too fast, revealing his concealed irritation with Hamilton which refused to die. Not deeply rooted anger, but the birth of the smallest seed of it.

"Alright. Come on, Philip," she rose, pulling his arm still gripped in her hand with her and leading him towards the door, commenting just as she exited, "By the way, Mr Hamilton, sir, I think blue sounds wonderful." Hamilton grinned at Burr, victorious until she continued, "I do think you'd do well to adhere to my father's advice, however."

* * *

The mood in the library was far more relaxed than that in the next room as the pair sat on the floor, a large tomb open and laying between them as Philip explained a specific mathematical method he had learned over the past few months.

"So the x represents an unknown value -"

"Which in this case must be 4," Theodosia finished, getting the right answer after having only learned of algebra moments ago. She knew her father had planned to teach her, but Philip's impromptu lesson seemed very informative.

"Yes, that's... right," Philip confirmed, surprised at her seemingly limitless capacity to absorb new information, though he'd witnessed her mind at work many times before.

Chuckling at his shock, Theo teased, "You didn't forget _I_ study mathematics too, did you?" A single eyebrow raised in a high, inquisitive arch.

"Of course not!" He affectionately nudged his shoulder into hers, knocking her to the ground while she groaned in protest.

"So kind," she commented sarcastically, a playful smirk forming on her lips as she decided, "not as kind as I am, however," and threw another book, which had laid discarded on the floor, at him, thankfully light enough that it didn't hurt him when it hit him, toppling him to lay opposite her, beaming at her success as he frowned. Satisfied, she insisted, "Tell me more about school."

Philip took a moment to think. Aloud, he recalled, "There are a lot of intelligent students, although my grades are always the highest. The others are a lot of fun to be around, and -" he stopped, noticing a glimmer of envy on Theodosia's face.

Puzzled by his unexpected pause, she checked, "What is it?"

"You looked jealous, although I can't tell if it's because I know other _clever_ people or if I know other _fun_ people."

Slightly bashful, Theo admitted, "Maybe a little of both..."

Laughing, Philip assured, "Don't worry, you're by far the most intelligent person I've met. And as for fun, I've never known anyone as entertaining as you." Despite his laughter, his words were absolutely genuine, something his honest hazel eyes seemed to glow with the light of truth, and Theo smiled, comforted.

"Go on," she urged, her interest returning.

"The teachers are strict, but I've only been caught misbehaving once. Since then," he grimaced as he remembered the sharp snap of a cane on his knuckles, time and time again, "I've made sure not to be discovered." A sly smile emerged as he leaned slightly closer to reveal conspiratorially, "That doesn't mean I have been completely well behaved, though."

Equally sly, Theodosia asked, "What, pray tell, does that mean?"

"Oh, nothing much," he replied, feigning nonchalance as he admitted, "Only that I may or may not have sneaked from my dorm room a few nights, and that I may or may not have run riot when doing so."

He enjoyed the obvious surprise Theo displayed, and happily obliged when she asked, "What did you get up to?"

"This and that: exploring the forest surrounding the campus, dumping a bunch of frogs in the classroom of the worst teacher, setting up traps of buckets of flour ready to fall onto whoever next walked through the door." The trace of shame in his eyes informed Theodosia's next question:

"That was what you got found out for, wasn't it? I bet you didn't even think to clean your feet of flour, and led them straight to your bedroom!"

Philip blushed, but agreed, "Yes, that's what happened." Somehow, he couldn't quite make eye contact, making her doubt him.

"That's _not_ what happened," she realized, smirking as Philip's blush deepened to a furious crimson and confirmed her suspicion. "If you didn't lead them with your footprints..." She mulled it over, before gasping in delight as she came to the conclusion, "It fell on you, didn't it?"

He was incapable of verbally answering, only nodded, hanging his head in shame as she disintegrated into a fit of giggles, obliterated by her amusement and clutching helplessly at her side as she pictured it: Philip standing alone and baffled in a dim hallway, white as a ghost, rubbing flour from his eyes with one hand and rubbing the slight bump on his head which had caused him to shout out in pain, instantly alerting the staff to his forbidden venture.

Having faced the severe repercussions first-hand, Philip found it less funny, flatly stating, "I'm glad you take such pleasure in the mistake which caused me to be disciplined by a cane."

"You shouldn't have been doing it anyway!" She retorted, though she did not at all believe that her sweet friend could ever have deserved corporal punishment.

He only gazed at her, managing to raise a smile as he watched her roll on the floor, laughing between her gasps for breath. He was entertained by her own entertainment though not quite to the same extent.

A knock on the door interrupted, quickly prompting both teenagers to push themselves from where they lay to stand up just as Aaron Burr entered the room, Alexander Hamilton just behind him.

"What's so hilarious that we could hear you laughing from the living room?" He enquired, not quite interrogating them for once.

"Philip was just telling me about -"

"About Algebra," Philip clumsily interrupted, shooting a desperate look to Theodosia, begging her to keep his tale of mischief a secret _. Please, my Father doesn't know, and I want it to stay that way._

With a miniscule, almost non-existent nod, Theo agreed, "Yes, x represents an unknown value." Glancing meaningfully towards Philip, she spoke of more than just maths when she told him, "I found it hilarious."

"Evidently so, Miss Burr. And now, my son and I must be leaving," Hamilton explained, beckoning the boy towards him.

"Yes, Mr Hamilton, of course." Offering a hug to her best friend, she continued, "Goodbye, Philip. I'll see you soon?"

"Absolutely," he replied, accepting her embrace but keeping it respectfully short for the sake of her watching father. "I still have a few weeks before I leave."

"In which case, you can leave without any qualms about whether you will be able to see my Theodosia again. Goodbye, Alexander, Philip," he smiled at both, yet his voice was more insisting that they leave than offering them the option.

"Mr Burr," Hamilton returned, with a polite dip of his head, before walking past him towards the front door

"Sir," Philip offered, following his father to leave. _However adamant he is that we leave, he's right about one thing: I'll be visiting Theodosia again._

With the father and daughter duo alone once more, Burr approached Theodosia and laid his hands on her shoulders, kneeling to make eye contact on level with her. Slowly, he explained, "Theodosia, I know it wasn't algebra which made you hysterical." His deep brown eyes seemed almost to stare into her soul, reading the truth, or what he assumed was the truth.

She attempted to explain, "Daddy, you're right, but it wasn't anything -"

Burr cut her off, "I trust you to judge what is appropriate conversation and what is not. That said, I can't say I particularly want to know whatever it was that he told you."

 _Which means I don't_ need _to tell him what happened, so I won't, else that would be betraying Philip's confidence,_ Theo decided. So she stayed silent, allowing him to speak.

"I just want you to promise me that you'll be careful around him. I admit, he seems a nice enough young man. But no young man is good enough to win your heart, especially when you're still so young. And even when you do begin looking for a suitor, he will still not be a realistic option, because he will always be his father's son. The entire country knows how Alexander Hamilton treats women."

Surprised at each and every part of his proposed pledge, Theodosia defended, "Philip doesn't see me that way, nor I him. And Daddy, I swear Philip isn't like Mr Hamilton. Not even _Mr Hamilton_ is like that now, Philip is sure he's learned from his mistakes."

Burr frowned, not so easily convinced despite Hamilton's belief that his opinions were as fleeting as time. _He hardly seemed any different_ _earlier_. If only to avoid a lecture, she sighed, exasperated as she agreed, "Fine. I promise."

 _I promise to be careful. But I don't promise to turn away from my best friend - I love his company._

But later that night as she tossed in bed, kept awake by her unyielding excitement that she'd be able to see Philip again whenever she wanted in the next couple of weeks, her thoughts still vividly active from sharing his company for the few hours he had been there and somehow unable to push the image of his honest hazel eyes from her mind, she was not completely convinced that his company was _all_ she loved.


	10. Chapter 10 - Something he'd like to say

**A/N: Hey reader! Thanks for your continued support of this story, it's so inspiring and motivational! Hope you enjoy this chapter, though I will warn you that my poetry is absolutely dismal. I tried! And there's a few things I'm gonna explain at the end of the chapter. So yeah, thanks for reading!**

* * *

Chapter 10 - Summer 1798

Looking at her on her fifteenth birthday as she sat skimming through a book while brushing her hair, holding a decorative pin between her teeth as she styled it just right, it was impossible for Aaron Burr not to feel unspeakable pride at the intelligent, beautiful young woman he had raised single-handedly over the past five years. Theodosia wasn't aware of his fatherly gaze until he asked, "May I help?"

The young woman looked up from the book and grinned at him, still maintaining her grip on the pin as she tried to reply, "You can try. I can't quite find the centre."

Burr entered the room and stood behind her, passing the brush through her dark curls a few times before taking equal sized sections from either side of her face and, using the pin she passed him, fixing them in the centre of her head. He took a moment to admire his work, then, satisfied, decided, "You look beautiful."

"I _should_ look beautiful for my own birthday celebration," she returned, turning around to face him. "Thank you for your help with my hair."

"But of course," Aaron chuckled, "If a father can't help his daughter on her birthday, when _can_ he help her?" He sat down on the bed beside her and reached inside his jacket for a small box, producing it with a flourish. As soon as Theo saw it she opened her mouth to protest the purchase of any gift at all - much as she enjoyed the finer things in life, she could never prevent a wave of guilt crashing over her whenever people spent their money on her. But Burr interrupted, raising a calm hand to silence her as he explained, "And if a father can't treat his daughter on her birthday, then he's not much of a father at all." He placed the box in her hands, nodding for her to open it.

Slowly, she untied the pink bow sealing the box and prised the lid away, revealing a beautiful silver bracelet with a single purple amethyst dangling prettily from the dainty chain. Not quite as extravagant a gift as Burr would have liked to lavish upon his pride and joy, but out of respect for her modest wishes, he refrained from a more ostentatious diamond encrusted bracelet. Yet even so, it glimmered beautifully in the June sunshine, taking the young girl's breath away.

"Daddy, it's stunning... Thank you, but you truly shouldn't have," she exclaimed once she regained the ability to speak. She quickly slipped the piece onto her wrist, turning it this way and that to admire the way the light caught in the sparkling gem.

That was enough for Aaron Burr: he knew Theodosia was never the kind of girl who appreciated a massive fuss, however he had clearly made a good choice of present for her. "I truly _should_ have," he replied with a genuine smile containing limitless adoration and generosity, as brilliantly warm as the sunny Summer's day, "and I'm glad I did. Happy birthday, my dear Theodosia."

* * *

"Father, why is Philip allowed to do whatever he likes?" Angelica Hamilton complained, hovering over Hamilton's shoulder as he tried valiantly to pretend he was oblivious to her incessant demands and actually write something. It was a futile attempt to ignore the child who simply couldn't go without acknowledgement, for she tweeted a new question every couple of seconds, as insistent as a bird at daybreak that he should rise from the work which occupied him to answer her claims of injustice.

"He's not allowed to do whatever he likes, he's only allowed to do more than _you_ are, because he is older and he can take care of himself," Hamilton explained dismissively, hoping in vain that she might abandon her enquiries.

No such chance, as she instantly retorted, "That still doesn't explain why you permit him to go wandering about town the minute he arrived home. We haven't seen him since Christmas, but I barely had a chance to set eyes on him before he was out the door again."

"And with a pocket full of money, might I add," the elder Angelica appeared at the office door, drawn not by her brother in law's frustration but by the loud interrogation from her niece. Sceptically folding her arms over her chest, she remarked, "I must admit, this seems bizarre, even for a boy as trustworthy as Philip."

Exasperated, Alexander set his pen down, loudly slamming it against his desk as he turned to both ladies and justified, "He's fine. I gave him the money because he needs to buy something today, and he can't very well do that if I forbid him from leaving the house until all of his siblings are satisfied that they've seen enough of him to grant him permission to go out again, or deny him sufficient money. As you say, we haven't seen him since Christmas for the precise reason that he didn't want to take a break to ensure that he would be home in time for today. I will do all I can to assist his intentions, including financial endorsement."

"Alexander, you haven't actually explained what he's doing," Angelica Schuyler Church pointed out, quickly becoming impatient with his excessively long explanation in which he somehow managed to obfuscate providing an actual answer to her comment.

Her cool tone dampened some of the fire in his own, and he was calmer as he explained, "Philip is buying a present for a friend whose birthday is today. He's been looking forward to coming home early to surprise her for months, and I won't have him turn up on her doorstep empty handed."

The younger Angelica queried, "Should his own money not be sufficient to buy a gift for her?"

"My thoughts exactly," the elder added. "And by the way - _her?_ This is a girl he's spending your money on, which is not only premature considering he's sixteen: not even a man yet therefore hardly likely to be courting a lady who will be significant to his life, but also I can't help but suspect I know exactly which young woman he's spending your money on."

Accusations rang in every word, and Hamilton couldn't quite bring himself to meet her perceptive gaze as her eyes begged the unspoken question _: It's Miss Burr, is it not? As in your rival's daughter?_ His hesitation was, conveniently, all the answer she needed to prompt a torrent of judgment.

"Alexander, are you pouring your money into his pocket just so that his gift can be more impressive than Burr's? So that you can brag about your abilities to bestow more happiness than he can to his own child?" He said nothing, though she allowed barely a heartbeat for him to refute her accusations, so she lectured, "Your son is not a tool to be used in your games, and you must not manipulate him or Miss Burr to achieve your own ends! Their happiness is not another step towards your driving Burr from government, can you not see how drastically you endanger their joy by attempting to do so?"

Hamilton's frustration returned with a vengeance: "Don't speak so defensively of the man who defeated your own father as New York senator! Even if what you said was true, I'd have a perfectly reasonable justification for my actions: need I remind you of the part he played in a certain document published last Summer which was not to your taste?" He retorted. Seeing his little girl's curious eyes widen in disbelief as she saw her father rise to argue with her beloved aunt, he made a conscious effort to establish some control over his raging torrent of emotions. With a deep, steadying breath, he elaborated, "That said, your accusations are completely false. I don't think it should seem so incredible to you that I would support my son's romantic or platonic endeavours for any reason other than playing my rightful role as his father, which happens to be precisely what I'm doing."

"Because familial loyalty is _so_ important to you, obviously," his sister in law mocked with sarcasm: neither she nor Eliza had forgiven or forgotten the details disclosed almost a year ago.

Hamilton paused for a few seconds, staring at the woman he cared so deeply for while she met his gaze with a level, disdainful darkness in her eyes. There was a marked absence of feeling in his hollow voice as he urged his daughter, "Angelica, please leave your aunt and I to talk in peace." It was not his fiery irritation he wished to protect her from any longer, but the defeat he felt whenever his abundant love for his family was questioned, especially when there was evidence enough written by his own hand to support any doubts. Alone with the Schuyler sister, he spoke. "Actually, yes. If you think I'd support Philip simply to spite Burr, you clearly don't know me at all," he replied, significantly softer now.

For a millisecond, there was a flicker of something he didn't quite have time to identify before the flame was harshly stamped out by her crushing disappointment in him which had remained since she first heard of what he'd done. When it was gone, her voice was equally soft as she shrugged, "I don't think I _do_ know you."

With that, Angelica turned away, leaving the room seeing as no one she was concerned about - or rather, no one she _wanted_ to be concerned about - was still inside. Only, she stumbled upon Philip, returned from town with a box of his own for his best friend. As soon as she set eyes on him, it was apparent from his slumped shoulders that he was experiencing severe doubts about some matter or another, something which was drastically uncharacteristic for the sunny young man who usually radiated optimism. "Philip, what on Earth is the matter?" She enquired at once.

The boy wore a frown as he explained, "I heard you arguing with Pops." As she cocked her head, he was quickly keen to clarify, "I wasn't trying to listen in, I only overheard a few snatches of conversation..." He steeled himself before asking, "Do you think it was a bad idea to buy a gift for Theodosia? We've been friends for years, but I've never seen her birthday, and I wanted to do something special for the first we'll actually share." _With luck, the first of many,_ he added silently.

His anxiety brought an amused smirk to his aunt's lips, and she recognized in him something he was not yet aware of himself: the stirrings of romantic affection. Always a dreamer, the kind of woman who wished true love might always prevail, she couldn't bring herself to voice her doubts about the elder Hamilton man's intentions; regardless of her brother's morals, or lack thereof, Philip's were undoubtedly true and pure, which made any gift he chose a genuine token of fondness rather than an object to provide his father with leverage against Aaron Burr in the most petty of contests. She shook her head, deciding, "I think it's a lovely idea. Now, what precisely did you choose for her?"

The student's face had relaxed into an easy smile, but as she asked that question, his dubious frown returned. He pulled the box from his pocket and handed it to her, watching her open it carefully and examine the object inside with great trepidation. Nervous, he asked, "What do you think?"

"Perfect," she truthfully answered without hesitation, closing the box and handing it back to him with a touch of pride gracing her smile. _Elizabeth has raised a devilishly charming boy._ "I presume you aren't giving it to her just like that, however?"

"No," he shook his head, his dark curls bouncing up and down on his shoulders. "I don't think it should take me long to have it ready. I thought I would write a poem." His words held the unspoken question of whether that idea was one his wise aunt approved of.

She smiled, all the confirmation he needed, and placed a hand on his shoulder, noticing as she did so that the young man who had always been tall for his age was only a few inches shorter than herself, and continuing to grow seemingly every day. "That's very thoughtful, Philip. I think it's a brilliant idea." _I just hope Alexander doesn't somehow twist your kindness into a weapon to use against Theodosia's father._

"Thank you, aunt Angelica," he grinned appreciatively, relieved beyond measure to have the approval of one of the hardest women to satisfy he had ever known.

With that, he continued towards his room, hoping inspiration for his poem would strike him.

* * *

Six hours later, the sun had dipped below the horizon to leave the sky a warm blue and Philip had barely scraped together a product he wouldn't be completely humiliated to hand over. A seemingly endless mountain of discarded parchment rose around his desk, a rural landscape of paper surrounding the city-dwelling boy, yet still he had to force the words from his quill letter by letter, only to find that nothing was quite good enough. Eventually, it was done, and he sat back from his desk with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, shoulders stiff from being hunched over for so long, fingers barely mobile after scratching out draft after draft of insufficient poetry.

 _But it's done now. I've surely missed her celebration, but I must see her before the day is finished._

* * *

The young man wasn't quite as broad as a full grown adult, but he was well on his way, and the prospect of tackling the familiar library window seemed unappealing. Yet the single other option was to scale the wall and make his way to Theodosia's balcony, in the hope that he could negotiate his way past that window with the same ease he had grown accustomed to facing the library window. The advantage of that was that it was larger. He considered carefully: _tumbling clumsily into the library, risking getting trapped and discovered, or scrambling up a wall with only a climbing plant to support my weight. I suppose I'm not_ that _heavy, and at least it's more dignified to fall after a courageous climb than to humiliate myself by getting trapped like a woodland animal. The front door isn't even an option, I know full well the view Mr Burr entertains of me._

His decision made, he began to attempt to scale the vine winding its way along the side of the house, certain he must be creating enough noise to alert Burr and the staff with the combination of the rustling of leaves, the occasional snapping of branches and his grunts of alarm. But he was paranoid, as he seemingly ascended to the balcony without too much trouble, swinging his legs over to touch the balcony floor with the weight of his nerves lifted from his shoulders. No angry mob headed by the home owner persued the man who infiltrated the household of a politician under the cover of darkness and targeted his daughter's bedroom. _Just as well, considering the stain that would put on my reputation_ , he thought, with a sigh of relief to have his feet on solid ground once more. With trepidation, he peered through the glass, spotting that Theo was alone inside. He rapped his knuckles on the glass, causing her to gasp in shock as she whipped around with wide, terrified eyes to see who could possibly be lurking on her balcony.

Her anxiety became a sceptical frown the instant she recognized the grinning idiot standing on the other side, pointing at the latch as he indicated for her to open it.

She scoffed at the audacity of his request, and made her way towards the glass, though her irritation didn't appear to fade. Her heart rejoiced at setting eyes on Philip after months apart, yet it simultaneously continued to race from the fright of having a mysterious figure looming ominously on the other side of her bedroom window. She reached up to open a small window rather than the door Philip had been hoping to use, for the purpose of allowing him to hear her scathing words only:

"You might have given me a word of warning before you took it upon yourself to clamber up the side of my house and scare the life out of me," she scolded.

Unfazed, Philip justified, "I couldn't warn you, that would have completely defeated the object of making it a surprise!"

Maintaining her rightfully disapproving attitude, Theo retorted, "Considering I had no idea you were even due home, I would have been sufficiently surprised by you appearing on my doorstep, like a _normal_ person - or is that too mainstream and easy for the great Philip Hamilton?" She spoke his name mockingly, though the remaining traces of her fear prevented much humour reaching her words.

"Your father hates me, so actually that wouldn't be a surprise at all, I just wouldn't be able to see you. Come on, Theo, let me in before someone sees me and alerts the police to some troublesome student harassing Aaron Burr's daughter," he pleaded, his eyes childishly begging her as they met hers through the glass. She chuckled at that, her amusement chasing the last of her shock away as she complied with his request.

As she opened the door and allowed him to barrel into her room and out of sight from potential judgemental eyes, she mused aloud, "Maybe I _should_ have let someone call the police on you so that they could teach you that most successful surprises _don't_ cause heart attacks. Still, now you're here," she continued with a sly smirk, "I suppose I could alert my father and let him tell you the same lesson..."

Philip's face became the picture of horror at the suggestion, and she felt smugly satisfied that she had repaid the fear he had instilled in her with his unannounced visit. His voice was barely audible as he implored, "Please, Theo, you can't..."

His absolute helplessness made her giggle, and she mercifully relieved him of his anxiety as she assured, "Don't worry, I'm only teasing." Growing more genuine, she commented, "I suppose I shouldn't be _too_ irritated by the boy who came home early to surprise me on my birthday. At least the _idea_ was very thoughtful of you!"

"I'm glad I've not ruined _everything_ , then," he smiled, his hazel eyes shining with anticipation to give her the gift he had purchased. "Speaking of your birthday, I got you a present." He pulled the box from his jacket and placed it in her hands, watching as she opened it and gasped:

She pulled from the box a gold locket, the pendant hanging from a delicate chain, engraved with an intricate floral design. Inside, a folded piece of paper baring the words of his poetic feat hid, and as she read it aloud, completely astounded by the depth of his words, he was absolutely certain that the vast number of hours he had dedicated to perfecting it were worthwhile. The poem held a curious weight of sincerity, the truth tumbling out in every syllable and crafting a beautiful world of honesty within the walls of the room in which the two of them alone existed.

"A million people walk this earth,

Yet my wandering soul has yet to find

One by which my affections are so deeply stirred,

As the girl with the captivating heart and mind.

When distance keeps me from the girl so sweet

My body aches, my mind is weary

In the glimpses of shadows I search to seek

The one who ends a pain so dreary.

But no imagined glance could match the sight

Of that face of unparalleled elegance,

She ignites a flame of such radiant delight

With her unlimited perfected excellence.

The verdant growth of my fondness of her

Is unmatched by all who think they know the truth

Of what it is to be destined to be joined, as it were,

And though the extent of my affection may appear uncouth,

Even so, I cannot deny what is clear

And that is that you are, and will always be

The one my heart holds so very dear,

The best of women, to the world, and to me."

She stared at him for a few seconds, eyes wide and the faintest darkening blush on her cheeks from the intense written flattery. She was speechless, leaving Philip to fill the silence after a moment. He reminded her, "I always said I wanted to be a poet."

"You _are_ one. The best I know," she agreed, still with a slightly glazed look to her fondly sparkling gaze.

"It's only because _you're_ the best muse," he replied, apparently forgetting the excessive time it had taken to write the poem and grinning in sheer relief that she hadn't scorned his extensive efforts. "May I do the honours of putting it on you?" He asked, noticing that she hadn't yet done so herself.

"Of course," she nodded, and returned the poem to it's resting place inside the pendant. Then she turned around, lifting her hair up to reveal her neck to him. Philip took the locket from her hands and slipped it around her, fixing the clasp while she continued "Are you sure you're not so intelligent simply because you're attending King's High?"

Philip walked to see her from the front, deciding, "I think it suits you. And as it happens," he added, falsely offhanded, "I'm not attending King's High anymore. I'm starting at King's College." He attempted to remain nonchalant, yet he couldn't contain a smirk as Theodosia clapped a hand over her mouth to conceal her exclamation of pride and excitement.

"That's incredible! You must be delighted, I know _I_ am! Does this mean -" she stopped short, not quite believing it to be true as she checked, "does this mean you're going to be staying in the city? After all, the campus is just along the street..."

He nodded, beaming as her face split into a brilliant grin. "Yes. I wanted to wait to tell you in person, which is why I didn't write: I'm home for good now."

Forgetting the need for secrecy, she emitted a high pitched squeal and flung herself into his arms, laughing in ecstasy as he span her around through the air, becoming equally absorbed in her enthusiasm. He was just as pleased as she was that he would be remaining in New York for the foreseeable future - _her happiness at the news makes it even better,_ he decided as he closed his eyes and succumbed to allowing his joy to explode from him and fill the room.

But their celebration was short lived. Hearing the commotion, Burr's heavy footsteps pounded towards the sounds coming from Theodosia's bedroom, afraid that noises which in reality were squeals of enthusiasm might be screams of horror. He burst in as Philip set her down again, and as soon as he established that there was no immediate danger, his expression of fear twisted into one of disdain.

"Mr Hamilton! Like father, like son, it seems you are both given to sneaking your way into bedrooms which you ought not to be in." His accusing glare could have frozen one who had not so recently been set aflame with the elation of sharing pleasure with a friend.

"Daddy, he was only -"

"That's enough, Theodosia," he cut her off with a kind of harshness he usually never showed to his precious little girl. _This is no time to be sweet and gentle - this scoundrel has forced his way into my home._

"Mr Burr, I meant no harm to either of you," Philip attempted to explain, before he, too, was interrupted by the stern, immovably disapproving man.

"Yet for all your good intentions, you have breached the boundaries of my property and stolen into my own daughter's bedroom. You know full well how much it is my aim to protect the last light in my life from any negative influences. The kind of people who enter my home without permission most definitely fall within that category, young man."

Seeing Aaron's point of view, Philip opened his mouth to begin his heartfelt apologies, "Sir, I -"

"No. No excuses, no defence. You will leave my home immediately, and be thankful I am kind enough to refrain from taking more serious measures." His steely gaze met the student's, and he stared him down as he witnessed Philip's natural instinct to argue ignite.

 _He can't dismiss me without even allowing me a chance to explain myself. He doesn't deserve to pass judgment on my character when he refuses to so much as acknowledge that I might actually be something more than he suspects._

He was so tempted to protest, and respond with the strong, bold arguments Burr was surely in need of. But while he glared directly back at Burr, he caught a glimpse of Theodosia hovering on the edge of his vision: she was upset. It was her birthday, and he ran the risk of ruining it by shouting at her father. That idea alone grounded him, and Burr watched his urge to berate the older man fade away.

"Yes, Mr Burr, Sir. Goodbye, Theo." His shoulders slumped in defeat as he retreated, looking for all the world like a soldier beaten in battle. Indeed, it _was_ a battle of sorts, a clash between the true affection of the boy and the older man's perception of his pure gift as something so much darker.

Alone with her father once more, Theo complained, "You didn't have to be so rude to him. He only wanted to surprise me on my birthday."

"I wasn't rude, I was defending my property," Burr replied, without a trace of guilt. In his eyes, he had done nothing but act in the only appropriate way to respond to one who infiltrated the security of your home.

"Is _property_ what I am now? Only, I thought you were a feminist," she retorted, blatantly unimpressed.

Not rising to argue with her, he justified, "You are infinitely more than property, which is what makes you so valuable to me. I won't allow any young charmer to break your heart, else I couldn't live with myself."

"I've already told you, he doesn't see me in that way!" She moaned, exasperated. _At least, I think he doesn't. Though, considering his poem, who could be certain?_ She pondered silently, before Burr interrupted her by pointing to her new locket.

"Is that from him?" He asked.

"Yes," she confirmed, deciding to keep the contents of the locket as a secret shared by herself and Philip alone, as it was meant to be.

Burr nodded slowly, frowning slightly as he warned, "I wouldn't be so sure he hasn't set his sights on you." She rolled her eyes, though the strength of her silent statement was decreased by the yawn which appeared from nowhere. "You're tired, you should sleep. It's been a very long day," he rubbed his temple wearily, for a moment appearing very old. He kissed her cheek, murmuring, "Goodnight, my dearest girl. Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, Daddy," she replied as he walked away, leaving her alone in her room. She brushed her hair and prepared for bed, trying to forget the troubles of the evening and instead focusing on the day's wonders: a beautiful gift from her father, an unexpected visit from a long-absent friend, and the brilliant news that he would be close by for a long time to come. _That must be the best gift of all,_ she decided, settling into bed and falling into a peaceful slumber.

That night, she dreamed of a certain poem which hung around her neck, resting just above her heart.

* * *

 **A/N: did ya like it?**

 **So the balcony is obviously a reference to Romeo and Juliet as they mature and their feelings for each other become a bit more intense. The poem in the locket us inspired by the saddest thing I've recently learned about Eliza Hamilton, which is that after Hamilton died, she carried some of the love poems he wrote for her in a package around her neck. And I had to throw in a bit of Angelica Schuyler Church being all scornful of Alexander because I just had to!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11 - A fragment of your mind

**A/N: Hi! Thanks again for your support of the story! In particular, Minniemora, who as well as being a stunning writer, is an incredible friend to me! Thank you so so much, Krista, you don't know how much of an impact you have!**

 **Gosh, we're almost half way through, and the babies still haven't gotten together! Never you fret, my children, Abbie's got it all under control! (Literally one of the best things about writing this is the ABSOLUTE DIZZYING POWER! I'm loving it XD) anyway, let's crack on!**

 **Disclaimer: the great Lin Manuel Miranda and the rest of the Hamilton crew own all rights to the show while I, on the other hand, am a humble potato... with fingers and a kindle. watch out, my fellow mutant potatoes and I are coming to take over the world! (I did warm you I'm loving this power! jk on with the story!)**

* * *

Chapter 11 - Summer 1798

The young woman was growing increasingly irate as she paced her father's office with a kind of palpable annoyance emitting from her every heavy step which her father rarely displayed. Her mood was to be expected - to an extent - however Aaron Burr had not anticipated such fervent protest from Theodosia for his actions from the night before, and he watched her with curiosity _. If this is what happens to all young women as they grow older, I am relieved I have only one to be concerned over._

Not halting in her movement, unable to contain herself within the confines of one fixed position for even a second, Theo complained, "Father, you just demanded he leave, you didn't even give him a chance to explain or to apologise! How the hell do you expect him to prove himself a good person when you refuse to so much as give him the time of day to do so?"

"Theodosia, language," he reminded her mildly, concealing his amusement at her outburst: true, the unprecedented argumentative spurn from his little girl was so unexpected that it was humorous, yet he could not ignore the nagging feeling that there was more than the fact that she was growing up and growing bolder as she did so that was behind the intensity of her feelings.

"To hell with language!" She retorted, intentionally repeating the word she guessed he deemed inappropriate. "You can't profess to mind _my_ uncivilized tongue when _yours_ was so stern to my best friend."

"Yes, I can," Burr stated firmly, frowning now as her defiance grew the longer she remained thinking about her predicament. "Because I am your father and I am allowed to guide you in the correct way to behave. And before you say anything more," he interrupted saw she drew breath to argue further, "I would do exactly the same if you were my son. The plain fact of the matter is that it unnerves me how close you are to a young man who I am certain is bound to be as arrogant and thoughtless as Alexander Hamilton. I can manage seeing Hamilton at work, I can withstand the snide comments he publishes about me, I can brush off hearsay about what he says with regards to me as just that. But I cannot allow him, or an extension of his beliefs, to corrupt my own child." _Or to hurt you, though I know my telling you how afraid I am for you would only be met with your insulted fury_. He regretted he could not confess his deep worry, but she would never accept the distinct possibility that her beloved friend might harm her, and would be offended at the suggestion she was anything less than capable of handling her heart.

He spoke with sincerity, yet Theo apparently found something laughable in his speech, scoffing incredulously as she commented, "Do you have any idea how wrong you are?" Elaborating, she explained, "Philip is just as much Mrs Hamilton's son as Mr Hamilton's and is every bit as kind and respectful as she is, so I have no idea how he is meant to corrupt me when he is nothing if not polite." _Well, polite and occasionally teasing,_ she remembered, though that was something she would keep to herself.

"Because breaking and entering is polite?" He checked, raising an eyebrow as he smiled gently, placing a hand on her shoulder to placate her. For a second she appeared ready to shrug him off and continue pacing. But, after a brief hesitation, she softened, relaxing enough to stand still and reveal the sadness her anger had worked so hard to conceal. Kindly, Burr tried to justify himself, "I know you want to see the best in him, because that is who you are. And as for me, _I_ am the kind of person who is too determined to protect his daughter to permit anything which could ever risk harming her to ensue. Which, unfortunately, means I am exceptionally wary of young Mr Hamilton."

Sighing with only a trace of her true sorrow, she lamented, "You really don't need to be. I don't think you could ever find anyone as trusting or as kind."

"Be that as it may, you know the extent to which I will go to in order to avoid risks. And for the time being, that includes keeping you separated from him." A flush of pain dashed across her face, and he felt instantly guilty. But it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced with her former irritation, and she walked away without another word.

* * *

Theodosia herself had no idea why, on that particular morning, she had risen from her bed only to be immediately seized with the urge to argue the innocence of her best friend and to earn her father's forgiveness of him; perhaps it was that her sleep, however peaceful, had been filled with the flowing melodies from years ago paired to the evocative words of poetry which hung around her neck on a delicate chain, resting upon her heart, possibly where they seeped into her skin and began to run through her entire body. Or perhaps it was because when she awoke, her hand flew at once to the locket, and her beating heart seemed to race as she thought of Philip, who had given her a terrifying thrill of delight with his impromptu arrival.

Whatever had been the cause, even her passionate arguments had failed to persuade her father. Disheartened and thoroughly frustrated, she decided that if she was to be kept from speaking to him, she would write.

* * *

 _My dearest Philip,_

 _What can I say? I am mortified by the way my father was so sharp and dismissive towards you upon our last meeting, and though you were not there to see it, I assure you I defended your honourable intentions to him today. Right now, as I sit to write to you and spill my heart onto a page, I have just returned from his office, where I insisted he should withdraw his unfair comments and reminded him of how kind and true a friend you are to me. Yet as you will realize when you receive a letter rather than a visit from myself in person, he was too stubborn for even my powers of persuasion to have any impact. In fact, worse than that is that he is now adamant that we should be kept apart! Could you imagine a more ironic scenario - the moment I learn you are supposedly barely a moment away from me, I am subsequently informed that I am forbidden to see you! Nothing could be so irritating, and I imagine the universe is laughing at our expense while it witnesses me tearing my hair out in frustration. Well, at least someone is laughing, though I know that person is neither you nor I. Who might have predicted your kindness would be rewarded with such an unworthy punishment? Certainly not I, for your poem is such an incredible creator of joy and deserves the highest praise, not solitary confinement for the recipient! Indeed, it is my one reminder that this separation can not be indefinite, for you would never allow it. And I, too, will do everything in my power to ensure it is as brief as possible. You have my word on that, Philip. Should anything occur to me, I will let you know as soon as I get an idea of how to reunite the two of us, and I am sure you will do the same. Otherwise, I suppose we will just have to wait and see how excruciatingly long it takes for my dear father to come to his senses!_

 _Yours in the face of adversity,_

 _Theodosia Burr_

* * *

Truthfully, he had expected everything she spoke of to be so, and he was thankful enough that she was even able to write to him. He could envisage as he read the words the incredulous tone with which she would have spoken the words had she been capable of doing so, and even detected the hint of sadness her words had attempted to hide from him.

Though his actions had undeniable consequences, he would not bring himself to regret it: he had come through when it mattered most, and even if that was of little consolation to Theo when they were due to be separated, to him it was a small comfort.

 _And perhaps it will prove to Burr that I truly do care, he considered optimistically,_ before a second's pause allowed reality to set in. He laughed once at his own naivety, realizing before hope ever had a real chance to lift his spirits that, _no, this will only be further evidence of how much of an untrustworthy scoundrel I am._

Though he laughed, there was no humour to be found, only a dull, aching pain in his chest which he had never noticed before. Since laying eyes on Theodosia for their all-too-brief meeting after months apart, he seemed to long for her company more than ever, and for no reason he could clarify - or rather, no reason he _wanted_ to recognize.

He, like Theo, was confused by the emotions running riot inside him, and knew one thing only: _Burr doesn't trust me because he doesn't trust my father._

 _I suppose I'd better talk to him about it._

* * *

Alexander Hamilton was hunched over the desk in his office, alone and muttering incoherencies as he wrote at a feverishly quick pace, eyes seeing nothing but the tip of his quill as endless words fell from it. There was no reply when Philip knocked, so he entered. Still Hamilton would not raise his gaze from the page, for he was oblivious to the company of his eldest son. Philip cleared his throat, announcing his presence in a more obvious way which finally caused a response, and Alexander's dark eyes flicked momentarily to the young man, lighting with hope before he recognized the figure and turned his attention back to the page. Such a reaction was not uncommon, so the boy allowed him a few seconds to finish his paragraph before his father set down his quill and leaned back, looking at Philip with something more than his previous marginal interest as he greeted, "Son. What is it?"

Taking that as an invitation to step further inside, Philip drew closer, admitting as he walked, "It's about Theodosia. And Mr Burr."

Hamilton grinned in anticipation as he asked, "How did she like your gift? You never told me what you got her. I didn't see you most of the day, and your bed was empty when I checked in on you last night." He raised an inquisitive, suggestive brow as he suggested, "Did Miss Burr deem it necessary to show the _true extent_ of her gratitude? I bet Burr wasn't pleased..." He seemed certain he'd found the correct conclusion to explain how his son had made himself scarce the previous day judging by his crudely proud smirk, but he could not be more wrong.

Exasperated by his once role model's animalistic assumption, Philip explained, "You didn't see me all day because I was in _my_ room, not hers. And as for being out of bed, I was finally delivering to her a locket complete with a poem which took most of yesterday to write. Nothing untoward occurred," he assured. It was his turn to smirk at his father's clear disappointment. Yet his amusement swiftly became melancholy as he revealed, "Even so, much like you, Mr Burr seems convinced that something _did_ happen, or could happen if I so much as set eyes on her again, and _that_ is what troubles me."

Alexander frowned, and ignored the issue his son had attempted to raise in favour of enquiring, "Why are you not more interested in the possibility of advancing your relationship with Miss Theodosia?"

"Because unlike you, I am interested in maintaining my friendship with a woman who I know for a fact is intelligent and interesting and so much more than a skirt rather than ruining what we share by being as reckless as you have been!" Philip snapped aggressively, defensive even to his father: he respected and loved him, of course he did, and that would never change; despite that, in the moments when Hamilton expressed the way his own actions could be ruled by raw urges, it angered the young man who'd witnessed so much pain as a result of that.

Taken aback, Hamilton was silent for a few seconds, before he sternly began, "Son, that tone is not -"

"I know, I know, it's disrespectful and inappropriate, but you are telling me to follow your path when it is that path itself which has created all of these problems between Theodosia and I. Mr Burr thinks you are incapable of treating any woman with respect, and seems absolutely certain that you could never raise a son who would deviate from the trail of your mistakes." He felt guilty even as the harsh words left his mouth, but he couldn't prevent his internal irritation reaching his father as he explained exactly what was so wrong.

A longer pause ensued as Hamilton considered a suitable response. He hadn't been expecting anything like that from his son, yet it made sense that sooner or later the boy would demand an explanation of the defamatory paper he himself had published, especially when the consequences effected his own love life, or "friendship", as Philip insisted on calling it. Rising above the urge to discipline a child's disrespect, he instead answered a young man's question. He couldn't quite meet those piercing hazel eyes as he replied, "I know you're struggling to move on. I know all of you are, your mother in particular. I'm sorry my actions have caused such difficulties for you, but you must understand it was never my intention to hurt this family." There was no excuse, as he was well aware as he rubbed his temple and lamented, "I was simply presented with a relief from the unbearable pressure I was under, and I was too weak to resist. It was a mistake, and I regret anyone ever had to find out what I did." An accusatory change of tone as he continued, "For that, Burr himself is partly responsible: only a handful of people knew, and within that group there were a few exceptionally untrustworthy men. I would not have published the paper had there not already been rumours made public, and if he and his comrades had simply honoured their word," here he grimaced, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists in frustration, "I would have been able to contain the pain of that publication within myself, allowing the guilt to torture my own mind rather than inflicting it on all of you." He winced, genuinely pained as he relived the awful decision in his mind, recalling the too-recent feeling of being hardly able to breathe as he sat alone at his desk, the crushing burden of choosing between his private and professional reputation, his family or himself consuming and tormenting him as he envisaged the three menacing figures who had brought him to that point looming over him, grinning in the knowledge that either way he chose, he could not win. But, he had noticed, at least the latter option would enable him to strike back at them, make them regret their attempt to cage a lion when he later lashed out and attacked.

His eyes took held the tumultuous storms of the Caribbean island from whence he came as he lost himself to the memories, and Philip felt compelled to interrupt his dark reverie, "Pops, it's okay. It's done now."

Alexander remained frozen until Philip stepped close enough to lay a reassuring hand on his father's shoulder, eliciting a shuddering gasp from the man as he returned to the present. He blinked the ghosts away from his vision and looked to the teenager. He agreed, "Regrettably, it is done. And you know I'd do anything to change that, but I am incapable."

Sadly, Philip nodded. "Mom will forgive you one day, I know she will. You're meant to work as a unit, not two divided fractions."

"I can only hope," Hamilton replied, his eyes regaining the beginnings of the familiar haunted look they so often took when he thought of all he had lost. Refusing to allow it to settle this time, he briskly soldiered on, "There may yet be a way to make Burr see sense. Clearly you are smart enough to avoid my pitfalls, and I will tell him as much."

The boy smiled, grateful not just for the offer, but for the fact that his father had been honest with him: not that he doubted it, and not that he wouldn't continue to be irritated by thoughtless comments, but it was obvious to him that Alexander viewed the past with nothing but regret, and the future with a solid determination to make amends.

 _I only hope he finds success with Burr._

* * *

"Sir!" Hamilton called to the man as he saw him strolling along the path towards his front door. He couldn't quite tell for certain, but it seemed there was a miniscule increase in Burr's pace as he tried to reach the threshold of his front door and escape the approaching party. But Hamilton had set his mind against causing conflict and elected to ignore it. He jogged to reach Aaron, walking alongside him until to go any further would be to enter the house. Unwilling to let that happen, Burr halted and turned to face him.

"Yes, Alexander?" He smiled, and it was friendly enough almost to pass as real - but not quite. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, not wanting to even think about the many reasons which might cause the younger man to seek him out and leaving him to explain for himself.

"Sir, I think it's imperative we should talk. You see there's a rather pressing matter facing both of our families, and for the benefit of our children, the future of our nation and the embodiment of our pride and hope, I think we ought to discuss it." Aaron began to suspect his next words, and was not surprised when his next sentence started with the name of his rival's eldest child: "Philip has told me of the impediment you have put in place with regards to his relationship with your daughter."

His opponent's eyes narrowed at that choice of words, though his smile remained in tact as he justified, "I am well within reason to protest to any young man who deems himself worthy of pursuing Miss Burr's affections. I'm sure you will be exactly the same the moment interest is expressed in your own daughter."

"Certainly, but I would not deny a young man who insisted he only had innocent intentions the opportunity to so much as visit," he answered without allowing even a heartbeat of lull in the conversation. Whether that would actually emerge to be true was debatable, but he would say so if it earned his son the right to fulfil his wishes.

Burr was dubious, "You have no idea how you would handle my current situation, and knowing your temper, I doubt you'd be as calm as you claim if your daughter was chased by a boy you had little faith in."

"Perhaps not, _if_ and only if it was some young fool obsessed with using my Angelica and proceeding to toss her aside," he admitted, "But you know as well as I do that my son has hardly abandoned Theodosia, rather he has worked with dedication to maintain their friendship for years. And for some reason I can't comprehend, that is _all_ he wants to continue to do now, too."

Burr chuckled, and for the briefest of seconds Hamilton dared to hope the man would clap a hand on his back and submit, laughing off their disagreement. Yet it quickly became apparent that Burr had other ideas, and his voice was almost patronizing as he explained, "The very fact that you can't comprehend a platonic relationship between them is what makes me so apprehensive about Philip's interest in Miss Burr. Tell me honestly, Alexander... Would you ever trust a man like yourself around your daughter, regardless of what he told you about himself?"

Hamilton frowned, jaw clenching as he replied, "That's not a fair question, I'm hardly a prime example -"

"Please Alexander, answer my question."

The other man took a deep breath, preparing himself to squeeze out his response and his excuses as quickly as possible before Burr had a chance to judge him: "No, but you needn't worry because Philip is not like me."

"Really?" Aaron checked, bemused.

"Yes, actually," Hamilton insisted, beginning to allow his frustration to make itself obvious. "He is sensible, like his mother."

Burr nodded, sombre. "I don't doubt he has inherited some of Eliza's good qualities. But I know for a fact that, though he may not naturally be inclined to share your thoughts, he _wants_ to be." Hamilton said nothing, only waited for Burr to explain himself, and how exactly he came to know so much more about Philip's character than the boy's own father. Reluctantly, he recalled, "Philip admires you. He aspires to be like you, and I know one thing you've passed on to him is your unwavering determination to reach your goals. So even if he is polite enough now, I am certain that he will not be in the future."

Burr began to turn away and open his front door, before Hamilton's anger burst forward in the accusation, "You've never been certain of anything. Why this, why specifically choosing something that will hurt me and my family? It's like when you directly challenged my father in law for the Senator seat, only this time you can't tell me it's just a career opportunity. You're deliberately seeking ways to damage my family, and I want to know why." He barked the command like he would have done in his days as a General, ordering his troops. But Burr had been a soldier himself, and was not to be easily instructed.

Calmly, he responded, "Yet again, you're ridiculous pride is astounding; as I told you at the time, the Senator position wasn't personal. However, you're right when you say _this_ is. Not because I want to hurt you, or even your boy. But because if there is one exception to my patience, it is that I will not wait around for the only joy in my life to be inevitably hurt!" His genial facade completely vanished, Burr slammed the door behind him before Hamilton could utter another word.

It echoed with an ominous sense of finality, seemingly confirming that no Hamilton would ever be welcomed across that boundary again.

* * *

 **A/N me again! Philip loves his dad, he's just very frustrated with him too... that won't stop him admiring all Alexander's achievements, though! And I hate that Theo's arguing with Burr, and he's all like "is this puberty? What? The? Heck? Is? Happening? To? My? Baby?"... But she still adores him, she's just very defensive of her "friend".**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12 - Daddy doesn't need to know

**A/N: Hey reader! Thanks so much for taking the time to venture onto my story! We're officially half way through! Bittersweet times, I almost don't want this to end! On the other hand, I seriously do because I have a bunch of other stories I want to write but I don't want to start anything kinda long while I'm still working on this. But hey, I'm loving writing this, and I'm so pleased that what happens in this chapter happens! Not to give too much away, but the Schuyler Sisters reminisce... Argh, I'm gonna stop cuz I don't wanna spoil the surprise! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 12 - Winter 1798

As far as Aaron Burr was aware, a lonely Autumn had come and gone for Theodosia, and throughout the season he had dedicated his days to overseeing her education and allowed her nights to be spent in solitude. He feared a deep sorrow had settled on her heart following the separation which he was actively enforcing between his daughter and Alexander Hamilton's son, for every night, she retired to her bedroom far earlier than had been common.

Yet his optimistic assumption was not quite as accurate as he would have hoped.

She truly _was_ saddened by missing the sight of those hazel eyes which inspired such a thrill of joy to echo within her body, but ever the resourceful innovator, she had not been satisfied to simply withstand the punishment. As she had mentioned in her letter many months previously, she had set her mind to finding some way to resolve the issue. She found the answer to be almost blindingly obvious: _if Philip is not permitted to visit with my father's approval, he can simply do it without. He managed to enter before without arousing suspicion - that is, until our noise broke his cover. But if we're careful, it's feasible._

When she informed her friend of her plan, he was just as eager to agree as she had been to suggest it. Thus it became the custom that Theo would bid her father goodnight with a peck on the cheek, then return to her room, setting a candle in the window as a sign to the young man that she was ready for his company. No longer taken by surprise when he clambered up to her balcony, no time was wasted arguing, and he was welcomed inside the furtive entrance with open arms. In the privacy of her room, lights dimmed but for the single candle to suggest to Burr that she was asleep, they would whisper in the dim orange glow for hours, until Philip's eyes began to visibly droop or Theodosia leaned unthinking against her pillows, naturally ready to sleep. Upon that occurrence, Philip would say his goodbyes and be gone from the window as swiftly as he'd arrived, growing more adept at scaling the vine trailing up the wall as he practiced almost every day for months, even when it became brittle and slippery as winter set in; it was a minor inconvenience compared to the metaphorical wall Aaron Burr had believed himself to be successful in constructing between them.

The nightly visits were nowhere near as much as they dreamed of sharing. But they were enough to satisfy the burning cravings consuming their young souls, and so both teenagers relished their secretive meetings.

* * *

Upon one of these rendezvous, on an inky black winter night, Philip brought the outside chill with him into the bedroom. Theodosia shuddered as soon as she opened the full-length window, swiftly tossing a blanket towards her friend the moment she had shut the door firmly behind him, insisting as firmly as she could manage whilst keeping her voice inconspicuously quiet, "You're freezing, _please_ warm yourself up!"

He chuckled, amused by her attempts to shield him from the bitter December chill but grateful nonetheless for the additional warmth, and teased, "Who's fault is it that I have to face that every night?" She rolled her eyes, and before she could cut him with some sharp remark, he quickly added, "I don't mind it, of course." _Truly. I would combat a thousand winters to be by your side,_ he continued silently. Shaking his head to force away some of his ever-increasing emotions which he seemed to struggle with recently, he resolved to return to a jovial mood, pointing out, "That said, I have no idea how I'd explain a sudden illness to my mother. As far as she knows, I never leave the house without her thoroughly checking that I'm wrapped up in enough clothing to supply a small army. It's excessive, honestly," he grimaced as he recalled Eliza's detailed examination and slight frown of concern that, regardless of the seemingly endless layers piled onto the slender young man, he still required more.

"I'm sure she'd understand if you explained you were simply overcoming some boundaries between yourself and a dear friend. And if not, I'm almost certain your father would be supportive." She recalled the way Mr Hamilton had actively distracted her own father some years ago so as to enable Philip to creep to her bedroom for the first time to say farewell before departing to boarding school. "Unlike mine," she muttered under her breath.

With an apologetic smile, Philip commented, "You know he only wants the best for you, however deluded he might be."

Frustrated, Theodosia replied, "I hardly consider banning me from so much as wandering into town out the paranoid fear that I might happen to stumble across my best friend as the _best thing_ for me! Though, you're quite right about him being deluded." She sighed, reflecting again on her predicament: _I could never hold my father's over-protection against him, because I know he genuinely does it to be of some benefit to me. But even if his heart is in the right place, it's mind-numbingly frustrating._

Concerned by her irritation, Philip placed a cool hand on her forearm, causing her to shiver involuntarily at the shock of the temperature change. "Try not to let it get to you. Sooner or later he has to face the reality that you are your own woman, fully capable of making your own decisions. And just as soon as he does, everything will change. I'm sure of it."

Theodosia smiled, instantly calming the ache in his chest from missing the sight: she had not long been with a frown on her face, but even the brief absence was disturbing to the young man who'd grown to adore the curve of her lips into a horizontal crescent moon. She placed her hand on his, gratitude for the precious gift of his presence in her life obvious from the warmth of her touch, and decided, "You always seem to find a way to see the light in the dark."

He nodded, "That, I am capable of doing. And as for fixing this, I'm determined to find some way to save you if Burr doesn't relent soon."

* * *

It happened that just a few days later, Philip came through on his declaration. Uncertain of how to deliver the much-needed reprieve from almost constant monitoring for Theo, he was about to turn eventually to the one person who seemed always to be sympathetic to the girl:

Eliza.

 _Tell her just enough, not to much_ , the reminder echoed like a mantra in his mind as he made certain he would not let slip his nightly meetings to his mother, who was convinced he'd not laid eyes upon Burr's daughter for several months. He located his mother in the parlour, sitting with his aunts while they visited, and happened to catch a hint of conversation as he approached the room in which the trio sat before he even had to ask for advice.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten how frightened you were! What was it you told me?" Angelica Schuyler Church's melodic laugh enticed him to listen to more.

"I don't know in the slightest," his aunt Peggy Schuyler Van Rensselaer replied, a touch bashfully, he noted.

"Yes you do! I know _I_ can certainly recall - _Daddy said not to go downtown,_ " Elizabeth offered, giggling like the young, naive girl she'd been once upon another time, when their current reminiscence was set. _It has been too long since she's been so happy,_ the eavesdropping student realized with relief, regardless of the fact that the women had intentionally chosen to discuss a time before his father tainted the middle sister's happiness, or even tempted her with the promise of a joyous existence he'd been unable to deliver.

"And, as was quite true, Daddy never needed to find out," Angelica pointed out, with her smug smirk audible in her words.

That in particular peaked Philip's interest: _Hiding something from a protective father. That sounds useful._

"Still, you can't deny it was nerve wracking, sneaking into town so that we could do as we pleased without his concerned gaze watching our every move," Peggy justified matter-of-factly.

"Exhilarating, too, however. And definitely worth it, we were able to witness the bustling streets of a country on the brink of conception," Eliza reminded her.

"Precisely. What's slipping unnoticed from your home compared to the excitement of hearing bright new minds professing their ideas of future brilliance? Insignificant trouble when you consider the great rewards," Angelica concluded.

The ladies continued to speak, but Philip could no longer hear them over the whirling of his own bright new mind concocting an idea. He knew there was already a time in which Theodosia's activity went unnoticed, because it was that period of time which allowed him to visit each night. And now he had overheard the rebellious way his mother and her siblings had taken advantage of such a time to escape to the city, he was inclined to suggest the very same idea to Theo.

* * *

"Your mother? Never!" Theodosia insisted, adamant that the calm, refined Mrs Hamilton could never have acted with such unprecedented spontaneity, even in her youth.

"And my aunts," Philip confirmed his tale, recounting, "Even though aunt Peggy seemed less than keen on the idea. Despite that, they all seemed to share the opinion that it was something fun, a chance to be wild and free without having to worry about the ridiculous regulations from their father." He spoke emphatically, attempting to convince Theo with the influential statement disguised as a simple fact.

"I'm not surprised, it sounds far more interesting than sitting around all day studying," Theodosia commented. "That is to say, I want to do it. I need some sort of adrenaline rush in my dull existence, else I might implode, becoming imbalanced due to the distinct lack of zeal for life within me," she decided dryly.

Philip chuckled, shaking his head at her dark sense of humour, and told her, "You are absolutely melodramatic. But I feel like some real fun will sort that out," he stood, grinning, and took her hands in his, pulling her to her feet, heart beating fast with anticipation. Or at least, that's what he assumed, though it could just as easily have been caused by cradling her hands in his.

"Wait, hold on," she laughed, snatching her hands away to grab her coat and a pair of delicate ankle boots, donning them quickly in order to prepare for her adventure which, it seemed, was happening straight away. Suitably dressed, she walked through the to the balcony door and, gesturing to the vine which miraculously supported Philip's climbing, asked, "How exactly is it that you manage to scuttle up and down my wall every night?"

Shrugging sceptically, Philip pointed out, "I assume it's much easier without a skirt getting caught up and snagging. Perhaps you should just sneak through the front door, and I can meet you outside."

"Nonsense. If you can manage, so can I, even _with_ a skirt." She ignored his protest as she approached the edge of the balcony, swinging her legs over the stone barrier and causing Philip's heart to jump into his mouth. Theodosia, on the other hand, was too focused on her descent to spare a moment to fear for her life: _Philip has done this countless times, so I know I am capable too. Even if I can hardly see where I'm placing my feet with this infernal skirt._ As a result, she gripped the vine with the vice-like grasp of her hands and tentatively lowered her feet ever so slowly, making sure the next branch could support her weight before placing more than a miniscule amount of pressure on it. After a painfully long time, she dropped to the ground, picking stray briars from her dress and feeling immensely relieved that she'd made it in one piece, with hardly more than a hair out of place to explain to her father.

By comparison, Philip was infinitely faster, arriving at her side not a minute later, wearing a brilliant grin as he offered her his arm with excessive formality for a young man who was responsible for the woman's escape from her own home. Playfully he asked, "Shall we, my lady?"

Theodosia mirrored the excitable grin, and laid her hand on his arm, inviting her to escort her as she replied, "I should think so. After all, I had quite a journey to get here."

"In which case, I would suggest we visit the travelling fair, situated just behind my college," he responded, suddenly struck with the idea. He had noticed the fair had been set up a few weeks ago to celebrate the festive season, and he had yet to venture there. He knew the place had a shady reputation, however he also knew many who had enjoyed the area's temptations, and he was certain that it would be a perfectly entertaining way to spend an evening, especially since his company was guaranteed to be so pleasant.

Theo nodded enthusiastically. She, too, knew of the unsavoury gossip of the area just behind the prestigious college, nevertheless after months of seclusion, she couldn't deny that a night so drastically different from the days she had known for so long sounded appealing. "Lead the way."

* * *

Their brisk walk seemed to fly by in the excitement of their eager anticipation, and within minutes they were approaching the narrow streets lit with gas lamps and candles lining the stalls of vendors, orange flames and silver moonlight reflected in the wet cobblestones. Sweet, smoky smells hung in the air, decadent scents of a variety of food which neither teenager were familiar with; even so, it exuded warmth, instilling a bizarre sense of comfort in them both, and neither felt the December chill. In almost every side street, provocatively dressed women attempted to secure the attention of clientele, but that was of no concern to the pair, who wandered along the street with wide eyes, taking in the bustling sight in the hidden heart of a city supposedly meant to be fast asleep. Yet this area thrived at all hours, stalls still filled with tradeable goods arranged intricately so as to draw a crowd, women selling bouquets of flowers or scented posies, a few men offering horse rides to young ladies, children waving bags of sweets and calling out prices, actors dotted here and there on small podiums quoting Shakespearean monologues, figures frozen like statues until passers by dared to walk too close and startled them into life, and musicians playing energetic tunes where the narrow street became a wider crossroads, and a few couples danced before them. It seemed like an impossible juxtaposition, the way this place had such a sordid reputation and the lives of the paupers living there had been wrecked earlier that year with the yellow fever epidemic, but the area was alive and exciting even so, meanwhile the part of town they frequented housed people in comfort and safety, yet bore no sign of wild enjoyment after the sun dipped below the horizon. It made the moment feel even more magical, as though the sheer improbability that it could ever occur encouraged them to cherish one another even more than they already did.

"Roasted chestnuts? Perfect snack to share while you wander through the market," a small boy suggested, tugging at Theodosia's coat sleeve with one hand and offering a bag with the other.

Only wanting to remove the young boy from her person, Philip quickly agreed, "Alright, fine," handing a coin to the child and causing him to release his hold on Theo as he took it eagerly. He passed them the bag and disappeared into the crowd to target another customer, leaving a flustered Philip and a giggling Theodosia, who had recognized his desire to protect her.

"You know, he was a harmless child, you didn't have to buy them," she told him, nudging him teasingly in the side.

"He grabbed you, though. I didn't want you to be scared off before we've so much as set foot here," he explained, maintaining his composure despite his ruby cheeks.

"Well, I doubt that's going to happen - this looks wonderful! But I suppose we'd better eat them, then," she suggested, taking the bag from him and opening it, picking a chestnut from the bag and peeling it before popping it in her mouth and crunching it, eyes lighting as she decided she liked it a lot. "Good choice, by the way," she commented, offering him the packet.

He picked a chestnut for himself, peeling it and eating as she had done, finding it to be equally delectable. Once he had done, he asked, "What do you want to see first?"

Theo didn't answer verbally, only dragged him alongside her as she made her way from stall to stall, admiring various sweets, pastries, ornaments and jewellery.

As she examined a glass bead necklace and debated whether or not to purchase it, Philip warned her, "You shouldn't buy that. It's expensive for what it is, which is a cheap imitation of an actual gemstone. You deserve better."

The vendor shot him a vengeful glare, but Theo only chuckled, jokingly replying, "Perhaps I do, but maybe I don't mind settling, seeing as it's so pretty. A bit like I'm settling for your company even though you're such a harsh critic of jewellery because you're oh-so-handsome," she teased, pretending to faint. Philip huffed, feigning irritation, which only increased her amusement. Turning back to the vendor, she confirmed, "I'll take it, please." She passed her a handful of coins, and thanked the woman, before turning back to Philip and pulling him along to the next stall.

She happened to miss the small pony standing nearby, so when she felt the completely foreign sensation of a disembodied warm, damp thing nuzzling her hand, she squealed loudly and flung herself into her escort's protective embrace, cowering and whimpering as she buried her face in his chest, too frightened to even glance over her shoulder at the thing which had touched her while he bellowed with laughter.

After a moment, she glanced nervously up at him with wide, dark eyes, fearful of what still waited behind her. Seeing her anxiety, Philip felt compelled to control his merriment, and wiped a tear from his eye as he gasped, "A horse. A small horse," by way of explanation.

She whipped around to see for herself if it was true, unable or unwilling to quite believe that an innocent, beautiful creature had startled her so much. _Oh my goodness, I am a pathetic, protected, infantile little girl,_ she decided as she realized that it truly _was_ a pony rather than some threatening beast. Still, she chuckled at her own extreme reaction, and apologised to the pony and it's owner, daring to stroke the long nose of her own accord and discovering that it was something incredibly delightful to watch the large, soft eyes close with bliss.

"Come on, I think you'd be better going without a ride," Philip pointed out, continuing along the street and prompting Theodosia to stop cooing affectionately over the pony as she hurried to catch up.

Next was a woman selling flowers, though Theo was still gazing longingly over her shoulder towards the pony so missed the transaction which resulted in him being able to offer her a single red rose when she turned her attention back to him.

She gasped, genuinely touched by the gesture, but as was common in her family she elected to disguise her true emotions, instead recovering herself enough to ask accusingly, "Why, Mr Hamilton... are you flirting with me?" She cocked an inquisitive eyebrow, yet her interrogational appearance was compromised by her prevailing smirk.

Not for the first time that night, Philip flushed a deep red. Mumbling, he justified, "I'm allowed to buy things for my best friend, aren't I? And she didn't have any other flowers." _Well, she did, however I only had eyes for this one since I thought it was symbolic of how I feel about you,_ he realized. Amongst a busy crowd and pressed so close to her was hardly the best place for him to recognize his budding romantic feelings towards her, but regardless of the inconvenience, the truth struck him hard.

Yet apparently it was not visible on his face, as Theo appeared to take that as a decent excuse, responding, "That's just as well, otherwise I wouldn't feel comfortable dancing with you."

"Dancing?" He checked, surprised that she was being so forward with her request - a hypocritical thought for the student who had just admitted to himself his own affection for the girl after handing her the flower of romance.

"Well, there's music, and plenty of other people are doing it, I think it would be a shame not to join them," she indicated the group dancing in the clearing at the crossroads.

Grinning, Philip agreed, "Quite right, my lady." He took her free hand and they continued towards the open space, music increasing in volume as they approached.

Once there, he placed his hands lightly on her waist, and she reached up to hold his shoulders, holding her rose between two fingers. Then, without the methodical approach to dancing they had both been trained in, they began whirling around as one to the sound of the jovial melodies, hopping and skipping and giggling and somehow managing to avoid tripping over the slippery cobblestones.

Within a few minutes, they were both thoroughly out of breath from their physical exertions and the sheer euphoria of being so close to one another, and as that song reached its end, they flopped back against a wall to rest briefly.

After a moment, Philip offered, "I'll find us something to drink," to which Theodosia could only nod, still panting too hard to reply. A minute later, he returned, holding two glasses of golden liquid.

Relieved, Theo took one glass and gulped down the entire thing, too grateful simply for the revitalizing moisture to pay much heed to the way it seemed to draw near to burning her throat in the most curious way despite the fact that the drink was lukewarm when it touched her lips. However, the way it settled in her stomach with a peculiar warm glowing sensation got her attention, and she asked, "What _was_ that?"

"Mulled fruit punch," Philip replied, taking a large mouthful of his own beverage. Unlike her, he recognized at once that it had to have a fairly high percentage of alcohol to burn as it slipped down his throat. As soon as he discovered that fact, he took her face between his hands, instantly guilty and afraid that the girl he was certain had barely had a drop of strong alcohol in her life might black out as soon as she swallowed and scanning for any sign that she was on the brink of losing consciousness.

Yet she seemed to barely respond to the drink initially, and was bemused by his sudden concern for her. "Philip, you're my friend and I want to be understanding, but would you care to enlighten me as to why you've grabbed my face?"

"It's... nothing. Nothing to worry about," he decided, making the choice to protect her from the embarrassing knowledge that she just downed a glass of potent alcohol like it was water. _She seems fine, so there is no reason to humiliate her_ , he justified to himself. "So, what comes next?"

He expected her to be tired enough to return home, however she giggled and, with perhaps too much enthusiasm for someone sober, exclaimed, "More dancing!"

Finishing his drink, Philip found that, he, too, had the motivation to join her in another dance, and discarded his glass to hold her waist once more. She took his shoulders again, and it began.

Both teenagers found themselves somehow less skilled than they had been previously as the drink took effect. But that in no way detracted from their enjoyment, it only meant that the music sounded as though it came from further away, and that they could see little but the other's eyes. Therefore the eyes became the soul focus of their attention, two pairs of moonlit galaxies gazing unblinking into one another as their awareness and with it the rest of the world faded away from around them.

Never had anything seemed more natural than what Theo decided to do next, lost in the wonder of whirling around with Philip's body pressed so firmly against her own. His hazel eyes were her only tether to reality. And so, she drew closer, almost like coming home, rising on the tips of her toes to touch her lips to his, eyes closing as his opened wide in surprise. She lingered there for a few heartbeats, before pulling away as the music slowed, letting go of his shoulders and stepping away from his hold on her waist.

Gradually, the world came back into focus, and she began to return to normality as the sobering sensation of losing physical contact with the young man settled in. Philip, too, lost the heady feeling that he didn't quite have his feet on the ground, and watched Theo's face for any sign of horror or blame for the inebriated actions she had initiated after drinking the liquid he had mistakenly assumed to be far weaker.

He found nothing of the sort, only a timid blush, shy smile and sparkling eyes, still slightly glazed with the remnants of the beverage lingering behind. "I'm tired. Can we go home now?" She asked.

 _Not mentioning the kiss, which is just as well because we'd both better forget about it if I want to actually live my life without Burr hunting me down. Hell, she probably won't even recall it happened after she sleeps off the punch_ , he realized. Still, he had felt that ephemeral elation, and it was enough to last a lifetime. Or at least, for the remainder of the night. "Of course," he agreed, offering his arm to her again. She took it, and they wandered to her home, in comfortable silence as they committed that night to memory, or whatever memory would survive past sunrise following their alcohol consumption.

* * *

"Thank you for a wonderful time," Theodosia murmured softly, keeping her voice in check due to her position so close to her home, where her father slept. The pair waited by the wall, about to climb to her room, but she felt she had to let him know exactly how much she had delighted in the experience before she stepped inside and rendered the night officially over.

"Thank _you_ , for being such brilliant company," Philip replied, grinning affectionately at her.

She smiled, touched, and twirled her rose between her fingers, watching it spin as she suggested, "We really must do it again some time."

"Absolutely," Philip agreed, too quickly. She chuckled, but he pretended not to notice as he told her, "I think I should see that you're safely returned from whence you came before I swear to anything, however."

Confidence increased by the lingering effects of the drink, Theodosia took that as a sign to begin clambering up the vine to her bedroom, much faster and less wary than she had been previously. Philip followed straight after, and met her on the balcony.

He intended to say a simple goodbye and be gone, but a sound caused him to become rooted to the spot, in genuine fear that his life might be ended sooner than anticipated:

The balcony door burst open, clanging forcefully against the wall, and there, any semblance of his usual calm persona vanished and replaced with a raging fire, was Aaron Burr.

* * *

 **A/N: after that cliffhanger, a few quick things:**

 **So I have no clue if there was some kind of travelling fair/market thing at that time, but I really wanted to include it anyway because it sounded like a cute idea! And it's in a dodgy part of town for good reason: I don't really want to present Philip as too much of a player in this story because although he was flirty in Blow us all away, I think he'd try to be loyal if he actually loved someone after he saw what happened to Eliza. That said, I don't want to make out he's entirely innocent, hence his familiarity with an area known for prostitution. Which I seem to remember was genuinely the case, and was part of the reason why, in the days Hamilton attended, students had a curfew, so they didn't spend as much time exploiting the position of desperate women. Or, as they would have viewed it, just being dishonourable.**

 **Yellow fever killed thousands of New Yorkers in the summer of 1798, rich and poor alike, but for the sake of literary devices, I pretend it was only the poor. Then again, I guess the rich could afford doctors, so they were less likely to actually die...**

 **Anyway, there's me explaining my historical inaccuracies! Also, ya know, it's fiction, so... yeah. Ahh guys they kissed! I mean, Theo's gonna forget (spoiler!) But still, it happened. And Philip loves her... But Burr ain't gonna be a happy bunny!**


	13. Chapter 13 - What to say to you?

**A/N: Hey reader! Thank you for continuing to spend your time reading my fanfic, it's very appreciated! Seriously, one of you compared me to the author of The Great Gatsby, and that's just incredible. Like seriously... I have no words. Okay, I feel like I need to promise Philip isn't gonna die in this chapter! But Burr is mad... So let's get on with it!**

* * *

Chapter 13 - Winter 1798

"Theodosia!" Burr bellowed, an ear-splitting broken moan, despite the fact the young girl was little more than a metre from him. He closed the distance between them and held her shoulders firmly as he scanned over her, examining her with almost feverish speed for any trace of damage to his precious child. Thankful to find none, he released his grip, stepping away to regard her with anger now he was certain that she was no longer and never had been in any genuine danger.

She wasn't exactly sure what those burning embers in his eyes meant, but she was certain she had never seen them before. Burr didn't speak for a long time, only stared at her without truly recognizing the woman he had raised throughout her life, the tiny baby he had sung to sleep, the wailing toddler he'd picked up from the ground to kiss her bloodied knees back to radiant health, the little girl he'd read countless bedtime stories to each night until she was too exhausted to beg for another, the young woman he'd educated himself while admiring her growing intellect, the daughter he'd adored with the entirety of his soul since the moment he learned of her conception. None of those memories struggled to the forefront of his mind in that moment; all he could see was a disobedient woman who had directly and intentionally deceived him to venture who-knew-where on a freezing winter night.

Tentatively, she murmured, "It's alright, Daddy, I'm home now, and I'm safe."

The man smiled. There had never been a time in his life when a smile directed towards his daughter didn't hold at least a shred of true happiness, for even in the bleakest of times the simple knowledge that she was there was enough to brighten his spirits and lighten whatever burden weighed heavily on his heart. But not this time: His smile was cold and bitter, infinitely more so that the piercing winter wind which tore suddenly through the air, whipping at their faces and freezing everything it touched, and for the first time in her life she understood somewhat how people could be so unnerved by the father who had previously showered her with nothing but warmth. She physically shuddered as he repeated softly, "It's _alright_? It's _alright_ , is it, Theodosia?"

Had the moonlight permitted him to see, he would have felt instantly guilty when the colour from her glowing cheeks faded away into an unnaturally pale shade, and stopped himself from going any further. But it did not, thus he continued, emitting a laugh which cut through the night without a trace of humour as he continued, "This is anything but alright!"

Her lip trembled, but her voice was unwavering as she began, "Daddy, I didn't mean -"

"Oh, I think you did. I think you knew exactly what you were doing, and you knew you would be lying to me and betraying me while you did it. The only thing you _didn't mean_ was to be caught."

Uncomfortable at standing as an idle witness as his closest companion was berated by her own father, and hating even more the realization that she was clearly on the brink of tears, Philip dared to speak up. "Mr Burr, I know you are angry, and you have every right to be. But -"

Turning sharply to face the student for the first time, he growled, "I _do_ have every right to be angry, and I fully intend to let you know _exactly_ how angry I am!"

Defiantly, the boy raised his chin, inviting fiercely, "In which case, feel free to shout, scream, punch, throw me from this balcony, even! But save that all for _me_ , not the young woman who you claim to be so concerned for. Don't you dare drive her to tears when it is you that has insisted on hiding her away from anyone who might hurt her!" He had never looked so determined and aggressive as when he hissed, "You don't get to make that kind of decision about her life only to then hurt her yourself - I know you are a liar and a hypocrite, but someone who actually cares about Theodosia is here to ensure you do not punish her for something _you_ drove her to."

For someone with his intelligence, Philip should theoretically have had the foresight to predict what came next. But Burr's fist came seemingly out of nowhere as he accepted the young man's suggestion and struck him in the side of his jaw, acting too much on impulse for it to be as damaging as it could have been, but still stinging as the grown man clipped the teenager, his wedding ring carving a small scratch in his freckled skin.

Philip staggered backwards with a grunt of pain.

Theo screamed, horrified by violence and thoroughly confused by the unfamiliarity of the occasion. No longer did the improbability of such an occurrence happening lend an otherworldly, dreamlike feel to the situation, rather it painted it as a nightmare, and one from which she desperately wished to wake. Afraid, she touched Philip's face, brushing his new, hot wound lightly with her cool fingertips, but he pulled away, more interested in resuming his argument with Aaron Burr.

He glared at the man momentarily, reading the brief touch of shock that he had actually submitted to the raging emotions he often tried so hard to conceal and resorted to hitting a teenager. It quickly settled into indifference. Philip shook his head in disgust as he bitterly commented, "I'm glad that was used on me. Otherwise I suspect you would have inflicted that on your own daughter, who by the way is completely terrified of the father she doesn't recognize any longer."

Burr frowned at the accusation, before shaking his head, vehemently denying anything of the sort, "I would never raise my hand to Theodosia. I blame _you_ more than I blame her for snatching her from the safety of her own home."

Somehow, in spite of the throbbing pain centred at the scratch on his jaw, Philip laughed incredulously, and retorted, "it is your paranoid use of excessive protection which has caused her to resort to this! Don't blame her for disobeying rules so strict that they should never have existed in the first place!"

He replied with a low, ominous murmur, one which as good as threatened to lash out again at the young man, "Do not presume to tell me how I should raise my own child - I don't think it's unreasonable to request she doesn't run off hand in hand with some drooling schoolboy in the dead of night, where he can do God only knows what without me being within earshot to save her from the manifestation of your selfish lust!" His voice rose gradually as he spoke, soaring out of control as passion boiled over within him and flooded from his mouth, scalding the teenagers with it's burning heat.

 _I knew he suspected me of intending to court Theodosia. But I never realized he thought so little of me that he truly believed I would steal her away and have my way with her where he couldn't stop me._ That accusation laid a deeper wound in his chest that the physical one throbbing in his jaw. The young man took a courageous but foolhardy step closer, preparing to meet the man who hurled an endless torrent of insults towards him with a physical attack of his own, but before he could so much as raise a hand, Theo recognized the immanent peril and forcefully awoke herself from her shocked stupor, interjecting with the sharp defence, "Father, he didn't do anything of the sort, you're being completely ridiculous. No one was hurt until you took it upon yourself to change that; Philip, I beg you not to add to the senseless violence this innocent night has descended into."

Distracted from one another for the time being, both males turned to her. Philip's face still held his stiff anger, but with visible effort he obeyed the demands of her entrancing eyes and brought himself down from the brink of his aggravation. Silently he reminded himself, _that would only be granting him yet another reason to despise me, and for once it would actually be a well founded argument._ And of course, he knew Theodosia well enough that he wouldn't intentionally disrupt her relationship with her one surviving parent by forcing her to witness them fighting, thereby making her feel inclined to choose a side to support.

Aaron Burr was not so easily appeased. Frustrated, he queried, "Do you expect me to take your word that he didn't so much as lay a hand on you when you have literally just returned from a venture you undertook behind my back, with a boy you obviously must be deeply attached to it he earned your affections enough that you would go with him?" He shook his head, answering his own rhetorical question as he continued, "You cannot be trusted to project a truthful, non biased representation of him, and he cannot be trusted to remain respectful towards you." He couldn't resist dropping a snide comment, "He is his father's son, after all, and Hamilton was incapable of even escorting a woman to her home without partaking in the conception of the scandal which ruined him."

 _Not just speaking of the affair, but speaking of my father as a ruined man, a hopeless case, an unrecoverable disaster. Past tense, as though he's truly dead in the political world._ The observant student analysed anything concerning his family in intricate detail, and on this occasion he did not appreciate what he saw behind Burr's words. A fervid flame of familial loyalty stirred inside Philip as he impulsively retorted, "If I was anything like the dog ruled by testosterone-fuelled urges you're so intent on painting me as, I would have acted upon those urges during one of the many nights I spent in your daughter's bedroom previous to tonight. I mean, I had months of opportunity, and it seems you were none the wiser."

Both Burrs stared disbelievingly at the infuriated young Hamilton, Theo because he had just unwittingly unveiled further evidence of her deception, Aaron because the content of that revelation revolted him. He wished so desperately that it was not true, that he had not neglected to realize that something so detestable to him had taken place over a torturously long period of time. But the guilt in Theodosia's eyes was enough to confirm the unpalatable truth, if the hard, stony glare of Philip had been insufficient on it's own.

The politician's voice was a soft, silky murmur, surely the most chilling sound either teenager had ever had the discomfort of hearing. It was not so much a question as a statement of the truth which had been made abundantly clear: "You infiltrated my home... for months you spent every night in my precious daughter's company, in her _bedroom_ , no less. You persuaded her to wander a dangerous city on a frozen winter night with nothing but a student to protect her from the crooks and criminals, and you dare to tell me I am somehow in the wrong for my objections." He took several slow, deep breaths, the struggle between rage and control occurring within him blatantly obvious. After what felt like years of anxious anticipation, control won - barely. If he had dared to raise his voice to anything more than a whisper, it would have erupted into a burst of flaming, roaring fury; So it was hardly audible and all the more poignant for it when he flatly instructed, "Leave. Go now, immediately, before I do something I intensely regret."

There was no refusing a demand like that. So, though it caused a huge conflict between his pride and his better judgment, Philip complied, pausing regardless of Aaron Burr to say goodbye to Theodosia.

Softly he murmured, "Thank you again for the wonderful night. I'm sorry it ended so terribly." He touched the rose she still held briefly, not idiotic enough to actually lay a finger on Theo herself when her guard dog father loomed so near to them, ready to toss him from the balcony like a discarded piece of litter should he linger too long, and turned away, hoisting himself over the barrier. Still his upper body remained on the other side, momentarily waiting for a response.

"As am I," she replied apologetically, again reaching to brush her cool fingertips over his burning, pulsating bruise. "Your face -"

"Will heal, soon enough," he assured. "And now, I must bid you goodnight." As an afterthought, he added with a mischievous grin in an attempt to lift her spirits, "a thousand times goodnight. A thousand times worse to want thy light!"

He continued to clamber down the vine, leaving Theodosia chuckling despite herself at what she assumed to be a teasing reference, meanwhile Burr glowered, clearly reading a deeper meaning, the one Philip had truly intended, into the quote. When Theo turned back to face him, her smile remained on her lips, warming her heart when it had been chilled so deeply with her father's icy words. However, a similarly cold look met her, and the gravity of the situation returned, her smile faded to an unimpressed scowl as she pointed out, "I may have acted poorly this evening, but let it not go unnoticed that _your_ behaviour has been atrocious too. Honestly, Daddy, you punched a sixteen year old in the jaw! Did you not stop to think of how dreadfully this will impact your reputation, especially when you consider that his father is hardly the type of man to allow anything, in particular something like the assault of his son, to pass by without retaliation?"

"As it happens, my mind was too occupied with the terrible thoughts of what disaster might have befallen you when I visited your room to find your bed empty. Not once did I suspect you would leave of your own free will, so I assumed you'd been..." Words failed him as he came to the point of naming his darkest fears: _kidnapped. Slaughtered. Swept off the surface of the earth, never to be seen again._ Irritated by his own weakness, he continued despite his voice being hollow and hoarse, "Forgive me for being less than cordial towards your friend. But I genuinely thought I'd lost you tonight."

He hung his head, the guilt of terrifying his precious child setting in as the red mist the student had ignited which had blurred his vision and judgment dissipated and he saw her wide eyed concern. He couldn't meet the reflection of his own fear, so turned away from her, and as the moonlight caught a different angle of his face, she spotted the trails of silver tears lining his cheek.

 _He truly thought I was gone forever._

Realizing the depth of his sorrow, Theodosia tentatively closed the distance between them, laying a hand on his shoulder and gently encouraging, "We should go inside. We must warm up, and then we can both calm down and forget about tonight." As she said the words, she noticed that, past a certain point, the events of her adventure were awfully blurry, and attempting to penetrate the fog in her mind caused her head to ache. Between the breathless end to a dance to the moment she returned to the base of her balcony, the only things she could recall were music, laughter and excitement. Beyond that, precise details were unknown to her, chased away by the shock of being discovered.

He nodded slowly, noticing for the first time how ineffective his jacket was at guarding him from the piercing wind, a worry which instantly progressed into fearing that the young girl was insufficiently warm too. He took her cool cheeks between his warmer hands, registering how icy she was to touch now he actually took the time to note more than only any visible source of discomfort to her. "Yes, inside. You're absolutely frozen," he agreed, ushering her back indoors and following behind her, closing the door after them and firmly locking the winter - as well as any other malevolent force capable of causing a chill to run down his spine - out.

Theodosia took a seat on her bed, where Burr proceeded to join her, taking her forgotten rose from her and setting it aside so as to cradle her hands between his, an attempt to share some of his body heat. Without the distractions of the open air and the addition of their close proximity, he discovered something else. Watching that his voice was stern, but not frighteningly so, he clarified, "You have been drinking alcohol, have you not?"

 _Of course. Perhaps that explains my suddenly memory failure._ Blushing shamefully, she sheepishly recalled, "Yes, a little. Neither of us realized how strong it was before we drank it."

 _I can only hope that is true_ , he answered silently. Another heartbeat saw him scolding himself, _For God's sake, he's a boy, he wouldn't intentionally get her drunk. For Theodosia's benefit, trust in that, at the very least._ "Be that as it may, this is still vastly inappropriate behaviour for a young woman of your social standing, and it truly ought to be amended. Is this what your friendship with young Mr Hamilton has reduced you to: a disobedient, irresponsible woman who runs around the city guzzling alcohol and fraternizing with students?" He asked, as surprised by her as he was disapproving.

"No, Daddy, he has encouraged me to follow no plan I would not have concocted myself. The fact that he happened to accompany me does not mean I would not have found myself doing exactly the same thing on my own. I am a young woman, not a little girl who needs to be locked away from the world! I long to be free, I long to see more than the walls of this house, and..." She swallowed, suddenly overcome with tears which threatened to roll down her cheeks. _I don't want to hurt him, but I must be honest._ The doting father was clearly afraid at what point would conclude her declaration, and rightly so. Still, she mercifully ended his wait for completion. Steadying herself, she finished, "I long to be able to experience the world without you watching to make sure I don't set a foot wrong. You know I love you more than anything, but I need to learn who I am without you trying to tell me."

Her eyes formed an entire non-verbal apology, though the words to voice her deep regret that she'd obviously hurt him would not materialize on her lips. Burr closed his eyes, wincing at the heavy blow to his heart.

 _I suppose I should have expected she would tire of me sooner or later. How could I possibly give her the life she wants, the life she needs, when I am alone in raising her?_

An idea happened upon him, slowly drifting into his mind and becoming gradually clearer, as if it had been lurking there all along just beyond his reach. It caused his gut to twist in revulsion at the very thought of it. Yet it was the only option he could uncover, and as much as it hurt, it made a strange kind of sense.

"Very well," he decided. "I think I see what must be done now." He paused, urging himself to explain the idea his heart was so avidly opposed to despite his head recognizing the logic to it. "You will not be kept here any longer, you will not have to exist within the walls of this house. And I will not watch over your every move, I will instead give you the space you so desire." He was not finished yet. As always, he obfuscated revealing the true extent of his idea, though on this occasion it was because he wished it did not have to be the case.

However, Theo interrupted, "Does this mean I am allowed to see Philip whenever I choose, without having to smuggle him inside?" She leaned forward, excited by the prospect which seemed to be dangling before her, waiting for her to grasp it.

"No," he answered slowly, truthfully. He continued, "I cannot bring myself to consent to his presence in your life at a time when you are so impressionable, and apparently I cannot trust that he will remain absent for as long as you stay here."

Confused, Theodosia enquired, "What do you mean, for as long as I _stay_ here?"

"I mean you are _not_ to stay here." He ignored her gasp as he explained, "You will live with your sisters, your Mother's daughters. They are old enough that they have children of their own and will be capable of looking after you, yet young enough to treat you with maturity and respect. There you will be educated in appreciation of the arts, a subject which will improve your social graces. It will be a change of scene, an opportunity to grow into the lady your mother would have wanted you to become, just like her other daughters, and you will be away from me, just like you want to be." _And away from him, that much is guaranteed, and it is the single product of this separation which assures me that this is the right decision._

She stared at him, squinting into his face to read for any shred of misguided humour, for in her mind that idea surely could not be possible. But she found no indication he was anything less than entirely serious. Incredulous, she snatched her hands away from his, insisting, "That is absolute madness! I can't leave you here on your own, and I don't want to leave my home, my entire _life_ , either!" _Or my Philip._ "And you dare to justify it by saying my Mother would want this? It seems memory has failed you, because I can recall in crystalline clear detail that Mother actually believed in making her own choices! She adopted liberal views despite being part of a family of loyalists, she opened her British husband's home to Washington's men, she married you for love rather than social standing! She adored my attitude, my behaviour, and as a matter of fact she also happened to adore Philip!"

He jolted back, stung by the suggestion he'd neglected to remember his dear departed wife with the same precision as his daughter. Even so, he attempted to placate her, "Theodosia -"

Enraged, she gave no thought to the impact her next snide comment would have on him: "I suppose it's not surprising my Mother should slip your mind, since you've hardly been short of female company to replace her."

Burr froze. There was no denying it was true, however he certainly wasn't proud of himself, and it hadn't ever crossed his mind his daughter would be so disrespectful as to exploit his shame.

He stood. He could not sit, he could not remain arguing with a girl who had resorted to low blows. Stiffly, he replied, "You have just condemned yourself. If I needed any further proof that the boy is a negative influence on you, it has just been shown to me." He spoke briskly, pretending his entire chest wasn't aching with sorrow as he walked towards the door, instructing without presenting any of the emotions he felt raging inside as he went, "You will leave for New Jersey first thing tomorrow. I know you will be tired because I will wake you early, but you can sleep in the cab. I will send someone with a letter to Sally forewarning her of your upcoming visit immediately, and she, Mary-Louisa and Anna-Louisa will be ready to receive you by the time you arrive, most likely in the afternoon. I will write to you, of course, and I expect you will respond. More than anything, I hope you mature while you are away sufficiently enough that I will not have to exist in a state of perpetual fear that you are doing something incredibly reckless when you return home. Goodnight, Theodosia. I will see you in the morning."

He had almost reached the door, and his hard, firm stance was about as solid as his resolve to follow through on his plan. _He means it. He's getting rid of me to my half sisters, and I'm powerless to stop_ _him_. Her tears succeeded in conquering her attempt to remain stoic, and she sobbed once, a heart wrenching noise which momentarily halted her father. Desperate to make amends, Theo dashed across the room to him, tearfully throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace as she pleaded, gushing a little, "Daddy, please let me stay! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry... I didn't mean that I wanted to be miles away from you, and if it means I can stay here, then I will make sure I don't see Philip any more, I won't even write to him if that is what it takes!" She didn't hesitate to make that promise, and if Burr had accepted her offer, she would have honoured her declaration with wholehearted dedication: her father was the most important thing in her life, the one who had been there since the moment she came into existence, supporting her through every trial and never, ever letting go.

He genuinely considered it. But he knew his little girl, and he knew the pain of causing her to indefinitely end her correspondence with the young man when they were so close would rival the agony of his own separation from her. He would not be responsible for causing her that level of pain, he could only hope and pray that distance would weaken their bond until it faded away forever. He allowed his own tears to fall, and turned to meet her damp eyes, the identical copies of his own. "No, my dear Theodosia... I know you are sorry, and I wish I was selfish enough to keep you here. But I love you more than anything on Earth, and let it be known that I still love your Mother, too. Regrettably it is my love for you which compels me to act in your best interests. So please, my dear, my Angel, don't make this harder than it already is. Please, try living with your sisters, for me. Please?"

She wiped away a tear, hesitating, but eventually nodded. "Very well, Daddy. For your sake, I will try to grow up, to move on."

"That is all I ask. I love you, Theodosia."

"I love you, too."

* * *

 **A/N: D'aww... Burr's gonna miss her so much! And things keep getting between Philip and Theo, which sucks a lot! But don't worry, things will get better!**

 **Thanks again for reading! More coming soon! x x x**


	14. Chapter 14 - Dear Sir

**A/N: Hey reader! It's time for lots of fictional letters and my fictionalized version of some genuine history! This chapter elevates the tension between Burrger and Hammykins, because it focuses on how Burr established his own bank. Yeah, that seems a kinda random bit to chuck in, but honestly the way he did it was genuinely so unbelievably sneaky, literally he was such an arse about it. It's actually really interesting, so I hope you don't mind me banging on about it for my longest chapter yet! Don't worry, there's also plenty of cutesy Philip and Theo letters! They go from December to the start of Summer (Although Burr's bank actually opened in September, please forgive my inaccuracies!) Hope you enjoy!**

 **This is dedicated to Krista aka Minniemora, for being so consistently incredible.**

* * *

Chapter 14 - 1799

Theodosia was too groggy to register much when Burr woke her the following morning, hours before the sun rose above the horizon. It was only when she was making her way towards the waiting cab outside that the icy dawn pierced through the stupor of sleep and the slightest traces of a lingering hangover. Both dissipated sufficiently for her to realize the true gravity of the situation. As soon as she did, she clung tightly to her father's hand, terrified to let go because she knew the instant she did, she'd be driven miles away from him.

Aaron Burr squeezed her hand briefly, reassuring himself as much as her that this was the right thing to do. He accompanied her to the cab, and encouraged her to sit down beside her neatly packed luggage - it was bizarre for Theo to be so dependent on his instructions, but she was hesitant to leave, and not a single part of her had any interest in going to New Jersey for her own benefit, leaving his instructions to be the sole motivating force. When she sat, she turned to face him, still holding his hand, and fixed him in an equally restraining look from her watery eyes, one so wide and afraid that he felt it stop his heart for a second.

When his pulse recovered, he managed to flash her a warm, albeit bittersweet, smile. "Don't look so frightened, my dear. I know you'll be fine." He hoped it was true. It was a hastily arranged trip, though he had ensured word reached his step-daughters, and was certain that they would shower Theodosia with hospitality. Even so, he was anxious about the separation, and leaned inside the cab for one last, parting embrace, closing his eyes as he treasured his final fleeting moments with the young woman.

"Promise me you'll write," he murmured.

"Of course, Daddy. I love you," she replied, fiercely returning his embrace, wishing in some deluded way that if she could just hold him tightly enough, she could guarantee that he would be incapable of pulling her away from him.

But there was no chance of that, which both of them knew well. So all Aaron Burr could do was to whisper in return, "I love you, too," gently kiss her forehead, and straighten up, stepping away from the cab before he changed his temperamental mind.

* * *

 _Dearest Father,_

 _I have arrived here and all appears to be well. I already miss you terribly, though I will make a conscious effort not to dwell on this point for I know it would only evoke feelings of guilt on your part. I do not want you to think this is a thinly veiled plea to return home, because I swore to you that I would try to learn and improve myself during my time here, and I fully intend to honour my vow. Now I am here, I suddenly don't think it is going to be too terrible here. Though we are not particularly well acquainted, my sisters are welcoming and treat me with all the warmth and affection a little sister should be shown. So you see, as much as I wish I might see more of you than your letters will present to me, I am enthusiastic to see what type of life I will know here._

 _All of my love,_

 _Your Theodosia._

The letter from his daughter was a welcome distraction from the work which had consumed his interest almost entirely since she left. He had to pour his focus into some project or other to distract from his mind numbing loneliness, and so he had adopted to investigate his financial situation, and ways to improve it.

To put it frankly, he was in legitimate danger of drowning in debt.

But Burr had always been resourceful, and a culmination of ideas, snatches of conversations, melded in his mind, knitting intricately together to form a plan:

He needed money, and the most obvious place to turn to for that was a bank; his Republican colleagues were constantly groaning with discontent that Federalists had the monopoly on banking systems, in particular Alexander Hamilton's successful National bank and within his own state the Bank of New York. Therefore, not content to simply arrange a loan from the bank, Burr decided that the long term resolution to his problems would be to establish his own bank. The benefits seemed limitless - it would provide him with a sitting pot of cash, gain the favour of disgruntled Republicans, and would give him the immense satisfaction of creating a system to rival that of the man whose relentless pace for progress had continuously stunted his own professional growth, and whose nuisance child had driven him to feel compelled to send his own beloved child away. Yes, it seemed a faultless plan, but for one point.

It required the permission of New York State legislature, and that was not something easily attainable, especially seeing as Burr lacked the funds to create anything at all, let alone a system costing thousands to establish. As he searched for ways around that obstacle he realised he would need a team of analytical thinkers capable of creating hugely influential, persuasive documents to argue his cause and to raise money. Naturally, though he hated to admit it, the first name to come to the forefront of his mind when he thought of almost aggressively talented writers was the exact man he intended to spite with the creation of his bank.

Setting aside Theodosia's letter for the time being, he returned to pondering the issue at hand. He sensed he was so close to a breakthrough, yet he had an ominous fear in the depths of his stomach that it would not be a solution he would be happy to perform.

 _Hamilton is not foolish enough to aid me in my pursuit of an objective which would challenge his own bank's lucrativity. However I can see no other potential recruit who would guarantee the success of my venture, which means I absolutely must have him._ Sighing, he realised he had no choice.

 _This calls for me to live up to his expectations of me, to deceive him._

And thus, the idea of the Manhattan Water Company was conceived. Though the very idea of intentionally ruining the trust of the man he loathed to call the most intelligent person he knew, Burr set about writing a letter of his own.

* * *

 _Dear Philip,_

 _I write to you from New Jersey. Yes, your eyes do not deceive you, I am in New Jersey! I cannot possibly convey through words how deeply apologetic I am for the unfortunate altercation which took place between you and my father, and can only hope you feel little pain where he struck you - let my admiration for your courage in defending me ease your suffering. Needless to say, our discussions continued after you left, and we eventually reached the conclusion that the solution to the predicament was to send me to live with my sisters - that is, my Mother's daughters from her first marriage - for a little while. Though, I say a little while, yet we have not actually discussed a time frame. I only know there is no chance of me returning home until my Father is convinced I am mature enough that I am not susceptible to your influence. Ridiculous, I know, but we must tolerate my poor Father's precautions, he acts out of love for me. With luck, this separation won't be too long, and we can maintain contact. Adieu, my dear friend; while circumstances place so great a distance between us, I entreat you not to withdraw the consolation of your letters._

 _Warmest regards,_

 _Theodosia Burr._

"New Jersey," he mumbled, almost incoherently as he read the letter, his ability to speak severely hindered by the warm, damp cloth Eliza held to the scrape on his jaw to sterilize the wound. She had been tending to him periodically throughout the day, alternating between pressing cold ice to the bruise to reduce the swelling and soaking the scratch with warm salt water.

"What was that, my brave young fool?" The doting mother enquired, referring to him with the name she had used for him since the moment she entered his bedroom the previous day to find a young man with a murderous headache created by alcohol consumption and a large purple protrusion on his jaw, both of which had swiftly demanded an explanation. Unable to formulate some convincing lie the instant he woke up, he had admitted the shameful truth, and though she was furious that he had ventured into the city in the dead of night and returned home sporting a hefty bruise from her husband's sometimes-friend, she prioritized ensuring the wound healed quickly above chastising her eldest son for the adventurous behaviour a child of herself and her husband could surely never be without. She removed the cloth from his face to allow him to speak without her hand limiting the movement of his mouth.

"Theodosia has been sent away to New Jersey. She's staying with her half-sisters for a while, primarily so that Burr can make sure I stay away from her, I don't doubt." He grunted, both in some discomfort at speaking and sending a dull ache through his jaw, and in disapproval for the news he'd received.

"I'm not surprised," she replied sternly. She chuckled at his frown of confusion, and ran an affectionate hand through his dark curls as she teased, "Don't look at me like that, my brave young fool, I'm only pointing out that you haven't presented yourself in the most positive manner, running around town with Mr Burr's only child. Truthfully, I don't think we can blame him for trying to keep his daughter as far away from you as possible."

Her soft smile confirmed she had some sympathy for her son, however the comment still struck him as unfair. Plaintively, he argued, "That's ridiculous, I didn't really do anything wrong! Do you think we can't blame Mr Burr for punching me, either?"

She shook her head, returning the damp cloth to his jaw to ensure his silence, "Of course nothing justifies physical violence. All I meant was that Mr Burr -"

She stopped, unnaturally suddenly, the smile falling from her lips. She had heard the door brush against the floor as it was pushed open, and recognized without having to turn around the familiar sensation of her husband's eyes on her, boring into her soul. A million years ago, that feeling sent a thrill of excitement surging through her, relieved to have his undivided interest. Now, however, it only served to remind her of the hole inside her heart which she had become so good at ignoring over the past two years, save for when the man who had inflicted such pain was there. Quickly amending herself, she forced a hesitant smile for Philip, brought his own hand to hold the cloth to his jaw so that hers was free, and walked away without sparing so much as a glance towards her faithless husband.

Hamilton sighed, thoroughly disappointed, however it was something he had become accustomed to nowadays. Instead he turned his focus to Philip, still sat in bed as Elizabeth had insisted he stayed. Smirking but sympathetic, he asked, "Did it hurt, or was his fist as flimsy as his beliefs?"

Philip grimaced, recalling, "It hurt. But at least it's not broken."

Hamilton nodded thoughtfully, and mused, "You're right... His aim was always terrible, I'm almost surprised he managed to hit you at all." Growing more animated, he suggested, "I may leave that out of my report, however, it hardly paints him as a major villain if I claim he only hit you thanks to a lucky strike rather than pure malice." As Philip's brow knitted together without comprehension, he explained, "I've been writing a report to be published under a pseudonym detailing his unprovoked attack on you."

 _Of course. He's barely come to see me at all while I've been stuck in bed thanks to Mother's overreaction, yet all the while he's been trying to help me in the only way he knows: political revenge._ Groaning, he took the damp cloth from his mouth and complained, "Please don't. I know you're after any excuse to berate him in the press, but please, not this. He'll only hate me all the more, especially if you lie and say it was unprovoked." With a jolt of fear, he realised, "He'd refute your claims by publishing the truth, or his twisted version of it, and make out like I've been secreting his daughter away. It would damage _my_ reputation more than his."

Alexander mulled it over, and begrudgingly realized the logic in Philip's words. "Even so, I should do something. Confront him directly, if you're so averse to disagreements in the public eye."

Philip shrugged, non-committal, as he replied, "If it pleases you, do as you want. So long as it doesn't have any drastic impacts on me, feel free to do anything you deem suitable." Almost timid, he added, "I'm proud of you, Pops. I trust you to do what's right."

* * *

 _Hamilton,_

 _I will admit upfront that we have encountered frequent differences in the past, you know this as well as I. However, I have a proposition for you which I hope should pique your interest. I know the timing is not particularly convenient considering how our children's interactions have been interrupted and this may displease you, however it is my hope that your love of your fellow New Yorkers will encourage you to set aside any disagreements we share. You see, I have been working with some colleagues to plan a system to deliver fresh water to the city, and should we succeed, it might avert further tragedies such as the yellow fever epidemic of last Summer making victims of our people in the future. Yet it appears we require vast talents of persuasion if we are to get permission to construct the life giving structure. It is no surprise that I think of you in such a time of need, and I would be thankful if you were willing to set aside our differences for the greater good of the city we adore._

 _Your obt._

 _A. Burr._

Hamilton had barely had a chance to pick up his own quill to address the man when he returned to his office to find the letter sitting in the centre of his just-tidied desk, both the delivery of the letter and the neatness of his previously chaotic desk courtesy of Elizabeth. The first thought in his mind was to be incredulous, and scornful of any favour the man who dared to lay a hand on his precious son asked of him, regardless of the content.

However, as Burr had intended, the content seemed too tantalizing to flatly refuse, and he was sorely tempted.

There was no denying that his moral reputation could use the respect that playing a part in such a benevolent mission would achieve, and although Burr would reap the rewards alongside him, it was surely a worthy sacrifice to make in order to regain some of his formerly respected standing in the public eye.

 _Burr punched Philip, and I must confront him over that. But this could be too much of an opportunity of redemption to refuse... And think of the New Yorkers who will thrive, all due to my powers of persuasion._ His son's words appeared in his mind, a sure sign of guidance amongst his confusion: _I trust you to do what's right_.

Though he had every reason to refuse to assist the man, he could not turn away from the lure of redemption. And so, he picked up his quill and played directly into Burr's hands.

* * *

 _Dear Theodosia,_

 _First and foremost I absolutely must tell you that nothing on earth could convince me to desert my contact with you, because you are the most incredible lady I have ever had the delight of meeting. That said, I can't help wish you were closer - my dear Theo, off in New Jersey? I can scarcely believe your father and his determination to keep me from you, regardless of the impact on his own life. Foolish indeed, but thankfully the blow he landed on me is much better, due to my Mother's unnecessary fussing: she insisted I stay bound to my bed until all trace of the swelling has vanished, and though it has been frustrating to be so unproductive, I admit it is easier than going into town and facing the interrogating questions from journalists hungry to know how Alexander Hamilton's son happened to get a punch in the face. My bedridden state is the reason this letter took some time to write, as I have only recently been released, but knowing your gratitude was a huge comfort during the lonely days of boredom. Though I shall miss you even more with every passing day, I truly wish you happiness for the entirety of your trip. I can only dream of seeing you until then, my dear Theo, and trust me when I say I can scarcely wait. Adieu, be happy, and let friendship between us be more than a name._

 _Warmest affections,_

 _Your Philip Hamilton._

Theodosia couldn't suppress the surge of delight reading every single word, sweeping through her body and setting her senses on fire, burning with a happiness that could not be contained. She smiled, running her eyes over the page a few more times and reaching instinctively for the locket which never left her neck as she cherished each written syllable. Her gaze lingered on _"my dear",_ and after sharing the company of her elder sisters and their pleasant husbands who often referred to their wives with the same name, she was beginning to understand why...

"Might I enquire as to whom sent this letter which causes your eyes to light up so enthusiastically?" The curious voice of Mary-Louisa asked.

"It's from my..." Theodosia halted, uncertain about quite what he was to her. _My best friend since I have been old enough to make that sort of choice with any feeling of certainty. And yet he feels so much more than a friend,_ she realized. As the woman waiting patiently for a response raised an eyebrow, she stammered, "Philip Hamilton. It's from Philip Hamilton."

Mary-Louisa nodded with a knowing smile as she checked, "The same Philip Hamilton who was so intent on chasing after you that your father sent you here to escape his frivolous libido?"

 _Frivolous libido? I'd hardly call it that. But as for chasing after me..._ after a momentary pause, Theo confirmed, "Yes, That Philip Hamilton."

Her sister regarded her thoughtfully, before coming to the conclusion, "If his words alone have such an affect on you, I am not surprised in the slightest that Mr Burr was so concerned."

 _As in he thinks I would fall at Philip's feet, rendered completely helpless by his charming hazel eyes and haphazard freckles? Please. But the fact that he truly thinks Philip would want me to do just that is... interesting._

* * *

 _Mr Burr, Sir,_

 _I would like to congratulate you on the completely ground-breaking, unrivalled level of ignorance you display in asking anything of me: I should have thought you knew better than to request a favour from a man who adores his family after you have attacked my son so violently. The poor boy (Though in no way defeated by your impulsive behaviour) has been kept in bed because my wife insisted he fully heal before being released to live his life as he rightfully deserves to. It is terrible, in my opinion, that an honest, intelligent young man should be restrained by anything at all, least of all some petty injury inflicted for no good reason whatsoever. I don't hesitate to inform you that I was sorely tempted to make your altercation with Philip public, until he told me it was not his wish for you to be painted unfavourably. Remember that, Sir, for the next time you want to strike any relative of mine, that it is Philip's good nature that has saved your reputation from being dragged through the mud. There is infinitely more I wish to say to you, Sir, but I am afraid it is not appropriate for a man who wishes to take you up on your plea for assistance - you see, despite the fact that you are incapable of speaking your mind and lash out at teenagers with no justification, I can't refuse your project, and I will require a document containing all of your planning thus far as soon as possible so I can begin writing my essays._

 _Your obt._

 _A. Hamilton._

The intense sarcasm opening the letter reminded Burr exactly why he felt relatively little guilt at attempting to exploit Hamilton's verbal talents. _A letter dedicated to complaining, with his agreement as little more than a footnote, an afterthought... Typical of Alexander, forever insisting on dancing around an answer by being as verbose as possible when making a point - and he claims I'm the one of us who avoids questions._ He groaned at the absolutely consistent approach Hamilton adopted without fail. Deep down, Aaron Burr knew that it wasn't his intention to irritate or distract with his excessive use of language: Hamilton always _did_ respond to questions, or even statements, too often ones which did not concern him. He just so happened to do so in such unrelenting depth that it was almost difficult to select the precise issue he was most focused on amongst his forest of other exquisitely argued points. Yet it was that level of thoroughness that made the man such a crucial member of Burr's team. And, though he had taken his time to confirm, Hamilton had in fact agreed to assist Burr's goal, or what he thought Burr's goal was.

Aaron didn't even feel ashamed as his frustration subsided and he grinned at the words he held, words which practically confirmed that he would raise sufficient funds and gain support to create the water company. And then, from directly under Hamilton's analytical gaze, he would twist it to achieve his own ends, a small clause here and there which would make all the difference in the world, and surely be subtle enough that Hamilton wouldn't realize until a bank sprang up to rival his own.

* * *

 _Dear Philip,_

 _Your letters are always a welcome reprieve from the social training my sisters subject me to daily - not that I begrudge them the opportunity to pass down the skills my own mother taught to them, in fact I am grateful for such an opportunity, my only concern is that I can distinctly see traces of them touching me and transforming me from the girl you know to a young woman I scarcely recognize. I think I like the person I am becoming, however, so you needn't fear, I am sure you will love her, too; This is simply the process of growing up, I believe, and I am certain you are familiar with such an experienced yourself. All I can say is that I appreciate every letter, each and every word, as it grounds me and reminds me of the life I cherish outside of the formalities I am learning here. I think, despite the useful lessons passed on from my dear Mother I am learning from my sisters, the most crucial thing is what she taught me herself: society's perceptions may seem important, but reputation is nothing without happiness. Why am I rambling about this? Well, the plain and simple truth is that you, my dear Philip, make me happy. I cannot tell you how many times I have read and re-read your letters, or your poems, and every single time they bring a smile to my face and sunshine to my heart. Speaking of sunshine, it seems Spring is truly upon us! Perhaps I will be able to return home soon, since I've been away for months - I know you share that dream as strongly as I do. Whether I can join you swiftly or not, I do not want my letter to distract you from the pleasant weather, so please forgive me for concluding by wishing you all the happiness you bestow on me._

 _Warmest affections,_

 _Theodosia Burr._

Each and every word seemed to resonate with honesty as the student's eyes scanned the page eagerly. It seemed so long, in fact it _had_ been so long, since he set eyes on Theo. He tried to distract himself from the ache throbbing in his chest whenever he reopened the wound of their separation by thinking of her by engaging in meaningless flirting with the many girls ready to swoon after exchanging so much as a word with the handsome intellectual. It failed miserably: though he might chuckle at the way they fluttered their eyelashes and blushed, it was only because he was amused by the contrast between the coquettish girls in front of him and the young woman he longed to be reunited with. The single thing to be any genuine help to him was reading her letters.

 _She said she appreciates every single letter word... But Theodosia, the feeling is more than mutual._

Much to his younger siblings' entertainment, he kept the collection of her letters in the top draw of his desk, above his stationery and textbooks, earning him teasing comments from the younger Hamiltons poking fun at him, accusing him of caring about Theo more than his education.

 _Well, let them laugh,_ he always consoled himself, _I don't see any reason not to cherish my correspondence with one of the most important people in my life._

* * *

 _Mr Burr, Sir_

 _I have little to say, but you won't be disappointed by the limited quantity of words in this note, because the content should excite you no end: I am delighted to confirm the total funds raised for the Manhattan Water Company has exceeded our target amount. I have heard whispers, mind you, which suggest the manufacturing costs of a water supply system should in actual fact total much less than that. Still, I am sure they are meaningless whispers and nothing more. I have also enclosed another essay on the subject of why this system is to be so useful. Also, let it be known that I approve of your idea of purchasing an office from which to operate the company, and handling any surplus income._

 _Regards,_

 _A. Hamilton_

A sublime smile stretched across Burr's face, one of the few genuine ones since Theodosia had been sent away. _Oh Alexander, such enthusiasm and zeal... thank you, good Sir, for you have given me absolutely everything I need. I'm sorry to fool you like this, truly, though I expect we will heal our fractured bond soon enough: you'll forgive me as soon as you want something, and I may gracefully play along. For now, though, I have a bank to create, using the excessive surplus money from building a mediocre water facility._

For the first time in his life, Aaron Burr could fully see why people were so anxious that he would deceive them. Even so, he would take their criticism without flinching, because for the time being, he had achieved success.

* * *

 _Dear Theodosia,_

 _I'm sorry you missed spending Spring in the city. Each and every budding flower reminded me of the boundless growth of your intellect, each blossom petal swirled through the air to settle on the ground with the grace of your twirling skirt when we danced, and the warm rays of the sun reflect the wonderful warm light you exude. Still, with luck, we will share the Summer. I think your father may soften towards me since he has been working with my father on a project of his, establishing a system to deliver clean water to Manhattan. Perhaps along with that honourable venture he has come to his senses at last, and will permit you to return home. After all, there's nothing like Summer in the city, and I'd hate for you to miss that, too. Since you seem to be maturing so much in New Jersey, I suspect Burr will be suitably assured that you are now immune to - what did you say your sister called it? My frivolous libido - and will happily receive you any day now. Please, I beg you, do not starve your dear friend of any change to your situation, for every scrap of information is precious. You know the fond sentiments of_

 _Your affectionate_

 _Philip Hamilton._

How ironic that Philip's letter of such hope that she would soon return should arrive at the same time as one from her adoring father, recognizing the progress she had made during their time apart and deciding he could no longer stand to be separated from his daughter. Theodosia was going home, and Philip was certain to be delighted.

However, instead of the joy which usually flooded over her with every letter, one point of this one struck a feeling of concern in the young woman. She read it again, just to be sure, and then skimmed through the letter from Aaron Burr until she found the thing which made her so uneasy:

 _Daddy told me he was creating a bank by raising funds to build a water system, then saving some to use for other purposes. He mentioned his partner was not aware of this... But he failed to tell me that Mr Hamilton was the one he was working with._

She drummed her nails against her desk, deliberating any possible solution to the predicament. She couldn't quite believe her father would be so manipulative of a man he'd once called a friend, yet she knew simultaneously that she could not do anything but support him, after all he'd done to support her. There was no way she could warn Philip without betraying her own blood, and by the time any warning letter reached him, there might have been no point in even attempting to avert the fallout which would doubtless follow: Burr said he was as little as a day from beginning operations, and the postage date was three days previous.

Reluctantly, she submitted to being entirely useless. Hamilton would be bitter and furious, but it was only so long until the fractious relationship between himself and Burr exploded yet again anyway.

 _There is nothing to be done now. I can only hope Philip does not hold my father's poor treatment of his against me._

It took barely a second of that thought existing within her mind for her to realize with a smile, _he would never do that. He cares too deeply to allow anything to come between us._

* * *

 _Burr,_

 _Words cannot describe my absolute fury at your betrayal of the ideals we persued side by side for these past few months. Though why it caught me by surprise is a mystery - I should have expected as much from such a prevaricative creature as yourself. God, when I look at each and every way you have tricked me, my skin crawls with nothing short of disgust. Let's review, so you can appreciate just how talented you are at lying: Firstly, that clause, the root of your bank, grants you permission to use any additional funds for banking transactions, and your additional funds are certainly plentiful; I thought we'd raised too much for simply building a water system, and it emerges I was correct - you used just 5% of what we raised to construct the system, while the rest is used for endless loans! And that office, the one you claimed was to be used to manage the inner workings of the company, is in fact the building people rush to in order to deposit and withdraw their money. And worst of all, I tasted a single sip of the supposedly clean water you supply. Let me tell you, Sir, I would not recommend anyone try to stomach any more than that one mouthful I took, not even you. You have lied to me, and you have condemned some of your fellow New Yorkers to be stuck drinking water no cleaner than before. We had a chance to prevent another outbreak of waterborne diseases, yet you elected to nourish your own pocket instead. Mark my words, there will be more death as a result of your negligence to provide a genuinely safe water system, and there will be blood on your hands. There is nothing I can do now, is there? Of course not, you made sure I had no idea until it was too late. Well, I assure you, I will not quickly forget this, nor the countless times previously when you have lied and deceived to achieve your own selfish ambitions. I swear this is not the end of the matter, Sir._

 _Your obt._

 _A. Hamilton._


	15. Chapter 15 - Baby, you can trust me

**A/N: Hey guys! I know this chapter has been a long time coming, I have been terribly busy with exams for the past two weeks! But I have been working on this when I can spare the time, I swear I didn't forget about my lovely readers. And hey, exams will be over pretty soon, and then it's only a few weeks til Summer! Thank you for bearing with me, you all win the Aaron Burr medal for waiting for it! (As in the song Wait for it? Um... I entertain myself, at least...) Anyway yeah!**

* * *

Chapter 15 - Summer 1799

Burr paced outside the room, his footsteps even and steady, giving absolutely no indication of his innermost feelings. He knew full well that he was not permitted to enter but the lawyer was nonetheless impatient to know the result of the actions taking place inside. It was not the first time he had been forbidden from entering a room, but thankfully this time the stakes were infinitely lower than they had been many times previously.

After what felt like a small eternity, he rapped his knuckles against the wood, calling through, "Are you suitably ready? And might I enter, at long last?"

A sweet giggle at his rare display of impatience, muffled slightly by the wall between them, followed by a reply of, "Yes, Father, you may."

Smiling, Burr opened the door to discover Theodosia standing elegantly poised, looking every inch the respectable, beautiful young woman he had dreamed she'd grow to become, in a glorious gown he had selected for her himself. It had been purchased as a gift to welcome her home, as well as a belated birthday present, though he'd been afraid it wouldn't fit seeing as she appeared to have grown marginally taller and developed a more shapely body during their months of separation. However if anything it seemed to be the perfect size, the additional growth filling the purple silk precisely and cradling her body like a golden crowd holds the most precious of jewels, hugging her ladylike figure with all the grace he had hoped.

Almost breathless with pride, he gazed at the most wonderful part of her, the part which never failed to ensnare his heart each time the adoring father so much as thought of it: her dark eyes, set alight with vibrant excitement. Suddenly, he felt the prickling sensation of tears forming in his own matching eyes as he beheld the sight of his sole offspring. In spite of that, the grin did not falter for a moment as he truthfully told her, "You look absolutely stunning, my dear Theodosia."

She chuckled, stepping closer to place a comforting hand on his arm as she lightly teased, "My dear stoic father, the man with a granite smile, with tears in his eyes? Miraculous." To take any insult from her affectionate words, she pecked his cheek, and continued, "Thank you so much for the gown, Daddy. It's wonderful."

"Perhaps a touch _too_ wonderful," he mused, only half joking as he commented, "I don't suppose a single young man will be able to take his eyes off of you at the ball tonight." His brow knitted in concern as he realized he knew exactly who one of those young men could potentially be.

Stubbornly ignoring his worried countenance, she brushed off his compliment, "I'm sure they'll manage just fine. Neither of us has any reason to fret, I am certain of it. Shall we be going now?"

Burr briefly checked his watch to discover they were in fact drawing dangerously close to the time they were set to arrive at the state ball. Yet he would not set foot out of the house without insisting, "Theodosia, I'm serious, my dear. Please, promise me you'll refrain from any... Unsavoury behaviour with the young men at the ball. And if any of them try to do something you're not comfortable with, if they so much as lay a wandering finger on you -"

"I will ever-so-politely warn them that if they wish to keep that finger, they must remove it immediately, lest I call my protective father to tear it from their own body."

He smiled, in complete agreement with her playful statement, before he was reminded that she hadn't answered with the kind of gravity his request deserved. "True as that is, I would appreciate the assurance that you do not intend to be put in such a situation tonight. You may be sixteen now, but you are still my little girl, and my responsibility to shield from inadvisable situations."

Theo nodded, satisfied to refrain from any of the actions her father seemed so worried - so unnecessarily paranoid - about occurring, agreeing, "Very well, you have my word. I shall enjoy tonight, and I fully intend to socialize with whomsoever I choose, however I will be perfectly proper during any interactions. You have my word."

Relieved, Burr noted, "You truly have grown during your absence. Now, we are running out of time, and I suggest we leave immediately lest we arrive late. Which, as you know, does not give the best impression to fellow attendees of the ball."

* * *

Within the walls of the Hamilton household, a similar, though much more tense conversation was taking place, with another teenager attempting valiantly to placate his irritable father. Alexander Hamilton strode erratically through the halls of his home as he impatiently awaited his wife and eldest son to be prepared to leave for the ball, unable to remain still in his extreme anger. No member of his family was willing to approach him in that state, because it was blatantly apparent that he was beyond consoling, however when Philip wandered into the hall only to collide with the man, he came directly up against Hamilton's verbal flood of frustration as it tumbled from his lips with the same unceasing pace as his heavy footsteps.

" _You_. _You_ perhaps match my feelings for that abominable creature, as you rightly should. He has done a great injustice to you, and many great injustices to me. And yet I know without a shadow of a doubt that we shall encounter him this evening; that disagreeable beast shall raise it's detestable head, that mouth which so quickly devoured my trust will be twisted into the sickening curve of a smile, as though he has never done an immoral thing in his miserable life. Yet the two of us know much better than that, do we not?"

Begrudgingly, Philip admitted that, despite the exaggerated melodrama to his father's words, he was right: Burr _had_ been unpleasant to him, and downright manipulative to his father, and it seemed unfair that he should be able to act so poorly and still maintain his respected position within society. Nevertheless, he knew that Aaron Burr would be accompanied by Theodosia, and that meant he would be reunited with her within the hour. Better yet, for as long as they were surrounded by other guests to the ball, Burr would be unable to interrupt their reconciliation. It was that thought which enabled his cheerful smile to hold such genuine reassurance, and he suggested optimistically to his father, "I'm sure there will be a host of other people to socialize with - not least the woman who will be attending alongside you."

Hamilton considered the statement, mulling it over: True, Eliza was convinced that she ought to attend the ball with her husband, more to maintain appearances than anything else. Though it continued to be the case that they'd barely exchanged as much as a few syllables since he'd humiliated her with his pamphlet, the hopeful sunshine illuminating Philip's smile ignited a flicker within him, and he dared to dream that perhaps an evening spent at his side would persuade her to give him the slimmest of chances to repair his image in her heart. Thoughtfully, he muttered, "Perhaps... That does not mean I will willingly allow Burr to escape my scrutiny and interrogation."

Setting a hand on his shoulder, Philip murmured quietly, "I know what he did was wrong... But I don't think tonight is the time or place for confrontation. Please, Pops, allow an evening of peace - Theodosia is attending, and she only arrived home today. I'd hate for her to have to leave early on account of her father becoming involved in a brawl with you."

Instead of being offended by the teenager's instructions, Hamilton was amused. As proud of the young man as he had once been of himself, he nodded, smiling affectionately as he decided, "I'm glad you're so considerate. And I'm pleased you're going after what you want. Tonight, I shall attempt the same rather than jeopardizing your chances."

Philip nodded, "Quite right." He was deeply relieved that he'd managed to break through the wall of determination his father had constructed. He had no doubt the men would one day argue, and Burr's scandalous behaviour would not go unmentioned on that fateful occurrence. Yet for now, his father was due to be more interested in his wife than his political endeavours - for once. And that left Philip free to focus on his own romantic liaisons.

Hamilton cocked a brow, amused as he pointed out, "You agree, then? Tonight is about you pursuing Miss Burr?" He smirked like a schoolboy, still a touch immature despite his seniority over the young man. Philip could only blush and struggle not to stutter as he choked out his disagreement.

* * *

The tension crackling with the ferocity of lighting between Alexander and Eliza during the short coach ride seemed to completely fill the carriage, causing Philip to feel stifled and uncomfortable throughout. Regardless, he was hopeful that some healing affect might touch their relationship within the space of the evening, due to Elizabeth's natural urge to refrain from engaging in improper gossip with the other women most likely in attendance and the animosity between Alexander and all too many of the fellow guests, both factors which could potentially leave them with no option but to talk with one another. And besides, upon arrival all the discomfort of the journey was wiped from Philip's mind, entirely replaced with one thing only:

"Theodosia."

He was on the opposite side of the ballroom when the name left his lips as little more than a whisper. But she turned as though he had boldly called her, facing him with a fond, emotive smile which set his heart aflame. Perhaps it was her absence, or maybe what she had learned while they had been apart, which made her seem so much more entrancing than she had ever appeared before. She seemed to glide across the ballroom towards him with infinitely more grace than she ever had before, by far the most radiant thing within those walls, and her beaming face put the decadent decor to shame. She was certainly not the teenager he'd know for years; she was hardly even human, more goddess than girl, an ethereal heavenly beauty glowing from within her, and for a moment he wondered how on earth he could ever have the nerve to so much as talk to her.

But then she was in front of him, and he could not look away from those brilliant black eyes, so enchanting that they immediately put him at ease. It was then that he realized she was still the same incredible person he'd adored for years. Only now, he was not young or naive enough to ignore his feelings.

Her captivating smile grew impossibly wider, and his eyes flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes as she greeted, "My dear Mr Hamilton, I am truly delighted to meet you once more."

 _Even her voice sounds like a choir of angels after so long without it_ , Philip reflected. Matching the enthusiasm of her smile, he took her hand in his to press a firm, lingering kiss to the lightly rose-scented skin, bowing low with all the respect and awe an otherworldly creation such as Theodosia deserved. Straightening up, his grin matched hers as he truthfully agreed, "I could not have foreseen the immense joy our reunion would bring to me, Miss Burr." Silently, he congratulated himself for keeping his voice from quivering. He proceeded to ask, "Would you do me the honour of sharing a dance with me?"

Raising her chin elegantly with a sweet smile, Theo replied, "I would love to." She placed her free hand on his shoulder, while he still cupped her other hand in his. He set a hand on her waist, and as naturally as breathing, they fell into the rhythm of the music, floating effortlessly around the marble ballroom as they twirled in perfect time with the beautiful soaring melodies.

Murmuring into her ear, Philip remarked, "The musicians are particularly talented - almost as much as you are at dancing."

He felt her sigh of content tickle his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as she replied, "Thank you, I received lessons from my sisters. And as for the musicians, they may play well, but I would love to hear _your_ music again, if only to prove how much better you play than them."

Smirking despite his racing heart, Philip was only half teasing as he noted, "You speak so kindly of me. Is there any particular reason for your flattery?"

Pulling away just enough to allow their eyes to meet, Theo coquettishly offered an ambiguous response, "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

They continued in electric silence, waltzing around the ballroom and feeling any concerns or inhibitions dancing far away from them, meanwhile their eyes never broke contact once. The room was dotted with the young sons and daughters of influential people, yet neither Philip nor Theo cared for the others who might have snatched their attention had they been less engrossed in one another.

Like a month is drawn to the irresistible lure of a flame, the two young adults were bound by invisible chains to each other, however the binding connection was one enforced by their own hearts, and instead of fearing whatever consequence might come from being ensnared in the trap of the offspring of a father's nemesis, they felt nothing but a desire to be closer in every sense.

* * *

Nearby, a married couple was finding little of the comfort of in each other's presence as the dancing pair: Alexander and Eliza stood side by side, close enough to escape the examination of immature observers hoping to gossip about the fractured marriage, but not as close as they should have been. Not by a long way.

"You look very beautiful this evening. I am proud and delighted that you agreed to attend by my side." Hamilton told Elizabeth, uncharacteristically awkward and halting as he broke the uncomfortable silence.

There was a pause, and for a moment Eliza debated whether she should humour him with any reply at all. But she, too, felt the need to interrupt the crushing silence surrounding them, so quietly murmured, "Angelica told me I shouldn't have."

"To spite me, no doubt. But then, you've never been the kind of woman to act out of spite, so I suppose it makes sense that you would choose to come despite her reluctance. For that I am unspeakably grateful," Hamilton continued, replying as soon as the words left her lips in his eagerness to uphold some sort of conversation with his wife.

 _Grateful? Grateful I came to an event in order to prevent my reputation being subjected to more of those cruel rumours which you set flying?_ Eliza rapidly worked to compose herself, taking a deep breath to avoid causing a scene. But a scathing touch was detected in her voice as she replied, "I came to watch my son meet his friend." _Not for you. Why would I think of you, when you think about yourself enough for the both of us?_ It would never have been guessed by looking at her face, her complexion unmarred by a flush of anger, her mouth set in a clam line of indifference rather than twisted into a scowl. There was only the slightest trace of sorrow in her dark eyes to reveal anything was amiss. Yet inside, her disappointment, heartbreak and anger towards Alexander remained unchanged since the day she first read his revelation.

Attuned to the wife he'd known for years, Hamilton picked up on her inner disapproval to him, prevalent even after years of time to heal her heart. Instead of pushing for forgiveness, he resigned himself to be thankful at least that she was talking to him. Following her gaze, he clumsily avoided the thoughts of despairing longing for the love they one shared which he knew were flooding her mind, instead asking, "Do you think he loves her?"

"Perhaps. Though I pray otherwise..." She sensed his quizzical confusion, and elaborated, "I would not want my son to be hurt, and it seems to me that love always brings eventual pain."

Hamilton's breath caught in his throat, a fresh reprise of guilt striking him aggressively and making him wince from the physical ache in his chest. "Eliza -"

"Excuse me," the woman cut him off, her voice wavering with emotion which he longed to comfort. But she had stepped away from him, somehow managing to lose herself in a group of women and fitting in amongst them with a painted smile. Alexander could do nothing but watch and wish his wife held a fraction of the warmth for him as his son did for Theodosia.

Little did he realize that behind her smile, her own heart sobbed, mourning the loss of their love and wishing she could somehow forget how much she still adored him despite all he'd done.

* * *

Oblivious, Philip and Theodosia had danced undisturbed since the moment the young man arrived, relishing their close proximity and matching fascination with one another, quiet conversations taking place as they floated around the room with effortless elegance.

Impressed, Philip remarked, "You dance even better when you are sober."

Giggling, Theodosia protested, "In my defence, the single time I became inebriated was due to a simple mistake which _you_ yourself caused. That paired with the fact that I have no recollection of any drunken behaviour discounts the validity of anything which occurred when I was less than sober, so I would thank you for forgetting any embarrassing actions."

With a teasing chuckle, Philip enquired, "Do you honestly not remember what you did?" _I certainly do. And to be quite honest, I'd like to repeat it._

"Not at all, nor do I have any desire to do so. I am convinced I must have displayed atrocious behaviour!" She exclaimed, a trace of a plea in her words as she implored him to mercifully spare her the revelations of their tipsy time together.

Unable to resist further taunting the intelligent, beautiful girl, Philip brought his face millimetres from hers, alluding to their shared kiss as he murmured intimately, "I promise, it wasn't so bad."

Theodosia glanced to his lips, then to his captivating golden eyes. Her chest seemed to flutter suddenly, as though her rib cage held a wild bird which longed to fly free. She was sorely tempted to open the cage, to let the bird burst into the open, allowing nature to take its course and acting purely on instinct alone.

However, it so happened that Aaron Burr had noticed their precarious position, and had approached unnoticed, a smartly dressed young man in tow.

"Theodosia! I hope I'm not interrupting," Burr interrupted her, turning a stiff smile to her dance partner as he nodded a forced greeting to him, "Mr Hamilton."

"Mr Burr," the boy returned, equally uncomfortable in the presence of the elder man.

"Miss Burr," the young stranger introduced himself, bowing respectfully to her as he introduced himself, "Your father has told me much about you. I must say, it is a delight to make your acquaintance after hearing him sing your praises."

Offering her hand for him to kiss, she replied, with nothing more than polite conversational interest, Philip noted with relief, "It is a pleasure to meet you - Mr?"

"Alston. Joseph Alston, Miss." The man explained, a faint southern drawl hanging in his words.

"Mr Alston here owns a prosperous farm, Theodosia. Might I suggest you join him in a dance? After all, you hardly need to spend the entire evening tied to young Mr Hamilton, especially when you have told me yourself you are nothing but friends," Burr prompted, a touch of insistence hardening his otherwise warm tone.

Theo looked to Joseph Alston, the anticipation in his gaze and the obvious signs of wealth displayed in his every feature. There was no question as to why her father was so keen to introduce them; it was blatantly obvious he hoped they would decide to marry. _Perhaps an advantageous choice,_ she mused. Yet when Theodosia's eyes returned to Philip, she knew her choice was made.

"It is a pleasant suggestion, however I hope Mr Alston can respect the need to re-connect with friends when you have been apart for so long. For this reason, I am afraid I will not take up this suggestion."

She thought she noticed Aaron Burr's jaw twitch, though it may have been nothing more than a trick of the light, for his faultless smile remained perfectly in tact. "It is your choice, of course, my dear." There was a marked change in his expression into something much harder as he continued with a glance towards Philip, "I am certain you know what is right and what is wrong."

Interrupting the sudden tension with a slight bashful withdrawal, Alston agreed, "I am sure, too. I hope you have a lovely evening, Miss Burr, Mr Hamilton. It was nice to meet you all."

"Yes, quite," Theodosia nodded, watching him leave their cluster. "And now, father, do you not think you ought to be leaving too? After all, Philip and I have some very important news to catch up on."

"Perfectly innocent, proper topics of conversation, I am sure. Very well, my dear," Burr complied with her request - he was intelligent enough to realize it would do him no favours to argue publicly with his daughter. He turned away, disgruntled but respectful, and resigned himself to observing from a distance as the loathsome young man once again resumed his position of tangling his arms around Theodosia.

Wilfully ignoring Burr's disapproving stare, Philip lead Theodosia in yet another dance as he asked teasingly, "What makes you turn down other men for my sake, Theo?"

She giggled, amused, but couldn't manage to hide a blush as she offhandedly remarked, "I could hardly sacrifice my friend, could I?"

Philip pulled her even closer, daring to be bolder than ever before as he murmured, "Is that all I am to you?" Theodosia's wide dark eyes met his golden orbs with shock at his flirtatious comment, and though she was a smart young woman who often had several remarks waiting on the tip of her tongue, she was rendered speechless. Philip filled the silence on her behalf, suggestive as he continued, "I would _love_ to be more than just a friend to you."

"I..." Theodosia began to stammer clumsily, suddenly shy and nervous as she attempted to spur her brain into conjuring a single coherent sentence. She paused to take a deep breath, before finally assembling herself enough to smile affectionately at Philip. Touching a hand to his freckled cheek, she replied, "You are simply the worst person. How dare you stun me in such a manner?" He chuckled at her feigned irritation, but was nonetheless relieved when she decided with a mischievous smirk, "I'll think about it."

His face split into a massive grin, and within a heartbeat, hers mirrored his, both radiating genuine delight and excitement as they kept whirling around the ballroom, forgetting all but the one they danced with and their anticipation of what the future might hold.

Neither could predict any upcoming events, of course. But when they felt such unparalleled joy in one another's company, they both felt a degree of certainty that surely the universe wouldn't be so cruel as to twist something so wonderful into something painful.

As for their fathers, however, that was a different matter entirely: both were unpredictable, unstoppable forces, and both were intent on running directly into each other with the merciless strength of a hurricane, leaving nothing untouched. Not even the happiness of their children.

* * *

 **A/N: YES GET IN THERE PHILLY AND THEO!**

 **(Sorry, I'm just very excited about where this is going!)**

 **So I guess you could consider this the very start of Alexander and Eliza's healing process. But it's not that significant in the long run.**

 **Also we got Theodosia's real life husband out of the way. Just to let you off the hook, he won't be showing up again, I just wanted to make it abundantly clear that he's entirely irrelevant to this story!**

 **And can we just have a round of applause for flirty Philip? And hard-to-get Theodosia? I love writing their blossoming love!**

 **Anyway, see you next time!**


	16. Chapter 16 - The election of 1800

**A/N: Hey guys and gals and non-binary peeps! Would you look at that, 2 chapters in a week even with exams? I am so gonna regret that! (Jk it's fine, I've already done loads of revision, I think a small writing break is allowed.) And I wanted this chapter out today as it's been the EU referendum (in which I wish I could vote, except I'm 15 so, as Jefferson and Madison would say, I don't have the votes. But I am totally on the remain side. I will cry if Britain leaves the EU tbh. And I'm rambling, but if you want to talk politics with me, I am so up for that, honestly feel free to just message me and we can slag off Trump or David Cameron together.) and this chapter is about THE ELECTION OF 1800 in which I also did not vote cuz, you know, I wasn't born. So you know, it's relevant! This chapter covers a large time span, mostly because I thought having this over multiple chapters would really slow down the plot. But please don't be alarmed! Also, irl Philip's duel was after the election, so you can look forward to that... or not. Anyway please enjoy!**

Chapter 16 - Autumn 1799 - Winter 1801

The cool October light trickled through the lace curtains, casting dappled patterns of shade into the library of the Hamilton household, the flecks of light falling delicately onto Philip Hamilton and Theodosia Burr as they sat side by side, pouring over a newspaper together, giving the text marginally less attention than they gave to one another. Over the course of their time being acquainted with one another, they had come to the realization that it was not particularly easy to be distracted from the tantalizing pull towards the other that they felt, while it was all too simple to be distracted from the simplest of tasks by the mere thought of the object of their affection.

The blaring headline, however, was very much worthy of their attention, reading in bold print: _Jefferson and Adams confirmed to go head to head in election of 1800._

Thoughtfully tracing a finger over the small print, Theodosia remarked, "I must say, I believe they have severely underestimated the strength of the campaign my father is running in this election. He is hardly mentioned in this article at all."

Chuckling and nudging her playfully, Philip pointed out, "That should be expected - this is my father's newspaper, after all, and we both know the view he entertains of Burr."

"Even so," Theo continued to defend the man she adored above all others, "I don't see that my father should be disregarded from the race; along with Mr Vice President attempting to win a promotion, Daddy has also made it clear that he is Jefferson's running mate, and for all you know, he could have some genius plan prepared in order to swing the votes in his favour - _so_ drastically, in fact, that perhaps even Jefferson's bid for the Presidency could be hindered." _Potentially, anyway. As of yet, nothing is certain._

With a bemused smirk, Philip checked, "I was under the impression, as was the paper, that he intended only to run for Vice President... Yet somehow your words have suggested to me otherwise." His eyes widening into pleading pools of insistence as he asked, "Won't you enlighten me as to the intricate game he is attempting to play? You know I adore the way you speak so passionately and intelligently about his political approach."

Theodosia giggled coquettishly, fluttering her eyelashes with childlike innocence as she tempted him with the tantalizing offer, "I _could_ spill his methodical secrets to you, only, I love to watch you guess. You're particularly amusing when you're confused." She brushed a hand gently against his cheek, tucking a stray soft lock of hair behind his ear as she did so and relishing the way her touch reduced the confident man to the sweet, awe-struck seventeen year old he truly was, who could not quite believe she was touching him with such apparent affection.

Witnessing her amusement manifesting itself in the lithe curve of her smile inspired his courage to return, however, and he brought his own hand to hold hers to his cheek, pulling her ever so slightly closer as he raised an eyebrow in an attempt at seduction and suggested, "Is there absolutely _nothing_ I can do to compel you to reveal your secrets?" _Not just those regarding your father, Theo, but the way you truly feel about me. I wish you would be as honest as I am willing to be about how I feel about you, dear._

She raised her eyebrows, smug as she answered with a degree of firmness which left no leeway whatsoever for arguments - or _alternative_ methods of persuasion - "Nothing at all, Mr Hamilton. I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see what discoveries hide undiscovered as of yet in the future." Absent-mindedly, her fingers continued to tangle within his dark, silky curls, considerably softening the slight disappointment her obfuscation caused.

Thoughtfully, Philip mentioned as neither criticism nor compliment, "You're so much like him. I can scarcely tell which of the words escaping your lips are yours and which are direct quotations from your father." He regarded her analytically, raking over her face with his sunny globes and smirking as a blush from his seemingly intrusive gaze splashed across her cheeks and glittered in her eyes.

Despite that, Theodosia embraced the intimacy, daring to lean scandalously closer and explaining in a private murmur, "I think perhaps this next phrase of mine should make at least _this_ distinction abundantly clear: I have never been so charmed by a man as I am by you in this moment, Philip Hamilton."

* * *

Aaron Burr held no reservations about conferring with Theodosia as he prepared for the race for the Vice Presidency. He knew above all else, she was loyal to him, and there was no chance in any information he revealed to her falling into the wrong hands. _Regardless of how much time she insists on spending with that flirtatious young idiot, I believe she is wise enough to recognize the risks sharing anything of importance with him would cause_ , he assured himself. So she became a prime confidant as the months passed, and with unnerving speed the time until the votes were taken slipped through his fingers. It was as impossible to stop them as it would have been for a single man to block the flow of a river. All he could do was to prepare as best he could, and to achieve that, he required Theo's sharp mind and careful observance.

It was the Summer of 1800, just months until the votes were set to be cast, when he thought to ask Theodosia her views on tactics. He sought her out in his study, where she sat at his desk proof reading a document he had written and adding amendments in her own delicate script. She acknowledged his presence with a glance and a slight smile, and he waited patiently for her to conclude whatever addition she was making and set down her quill before asking, "How do you suppose I should approach the election, now it is drawing nearer?"

A frown of confusion creating a crease in her brow, she enquired, "I'm afraid that's a rather vague question, so if you don't mind my asking, what exactly do you mean by that?"

"The typical approach is, I admit, to my taste: commonly, candidates express relatively little emotional investment, passively making no remarks about their desire to receive the position, however much or little they may or may not long for the role." Burr elaborated, frowning to match Theodosia as an obvious conflict arose in his mind.

"But?" Theodosia replied, delving deeper into her father's predicament. "it's hardly like you to divert from what other people accept as regular, respectable behaviour. Yet it seems you want to, on this occasion?" She noticed astutely, perhaps the single person in the world capable of reading exactly what troubled Aaron Burr after years of experience.

He nodded, confirming her suspicions. "You are correct on both accounts. The simple fact that no strong campaigning is done in most elections does not necessarily mean it is the correct way to approach an issue. Perhaps expressing more than mediocre interest would compel voters to support me, for I would be the one man willing to prove exactly how much he cares about the country? This election is important to me, after all."

Some kind of gleam always appeared in his warm gaze whenever he spoke of the election to Theodosia, as though he was already witnessing a flame of future glory. She had not seen anything related to his career capture his interest like that in a long time, and as far as she could recall, he had never even voiced the smallest consideration of ignoring the approach he used unfailingly in politics. _If he is willing to so much as think about going so far, maybe it is worth his dedication?_ "If you are so deeply passionate about the election as you insist, then I agree you should do everything within your power to ensure the best outcome for you." Aaron smiled, pride lighting up his entire body as his appreciation of the wisdom which far exceeded her age made itself evident. A warning, however, followed her endorsement: "Please, Daddy, to avoid too much disappointment, do not be surprised if things do not go in your favour; remember that it is supposedly Mr Jefferson who is aiming for the Presidency, and in all honesty he is likely to do well." With a trace of timidity lingering in her words, she added, "You can dream of one day leading this country. But for the time being, the Vice Presidency would be an honourable position to hold, and no matter the result, I will be proud of you either way."

Burr smiled, although perhaps there was a hint of a plot hiding behind his statement as he answered, "I know that... However, I think the future is very unpredictable, and I might just surprise people in this election. I believe -" _I hope_ "-it will be far tighter than expected."

* * *

October fell all too suddenly at the feet of Aaron Burr, but the time did not pass without him lifting an idle finger to aid his cause. He was relatively discreet originally, issuing a few hundred pamphlets, quietly arranging a handful of posters to be placed around the city. But as the time reduced and pressure increased, his measures became all the more visible, and the reticent man who so often exerted all abilities to avoid baring his own views took to the streets himself, talking and engaging the voting public, opening his home to a committee of workers constantly attempting to discover new methods of swinging favour in his direction, and following every piece of guidance he was offered in his pursuit of the Presidency.

It was on one of Theodosia's ventures into the city to escape the mayhem of her bustling house, accompanied by her dearest friend, that Philip first encountered the unexpected display of unabashed enthusiasm from Burr.

His first instinct was to laugh aloud at the completely unprecedented development.

Of course, the sharp jab to his ribs from Theo's elbow swiftly turned his entertainment into an uncomfortable, low groan. Even so, he failed miserably to hide his wide grin as he turned to her. "I suppose this," he gestured in the general direction of the politician, "is what he plans to do to win the Vice Presidency?"

"And what precisely is so humorous about that?" Theodosia criticized, pointing out, "You always seem to quote your father and lament the fact that he seemingly stands for nothing. Well, here is your evidence that he has been biding his time, avoiding ruffling too many feathers, so that now something he is truly passionate about has emerged, he has only peace and positivity attributed to his name." She finished with a firm, satisfied nod, her defence proven in her mind.

And, indeed, Philip could see the logic in her words: _It seems to be working._ That steely smile was as transparent as glass to the student, yet those he directed his attention to seemed genuinely enthralled by his words, falling under the fatal incantation that practiced curl of his lips was capable of casting, nodding thoughtfully as they perused the leaflets Burr distributed. _My father must hear of this bizarre phenomenon,_ Philip decided.

"It appears you are right about how effective he is being," Philip reflected. "Though, if it's not too much trouble, I'd prefer to leave before he spots us and attempts to charm me, something I am sure would be quite frankly terrifying, knowing his honest opinion of me!"

Theo giggled, begrudgingly seeing his point of view, and linked her arm through his, consenting to hurrying away from the square Burr occupied. It was hardly as if she needed any more information on his campaign anyway, as it was she who contributed many of the ideas.

* * *

When Philip returned to his own home and meandered his way upstairs to inform Alexander Hamilton of Burr's actions in town, he discovered the man hunched over his desk like a predator poised to pounce, scribbling not only with frantic speed but with an equally furious expression weighing heavily on his countenance.

Interest piqued, Philip asked, "Something important?"

His father froze instantly, flinching almost as if feeling guilty for being caught in the act of writing something which his son now firmly suspected to be highly controversial. After a heartbeat of adjusting to the company, however, a bizarre light glinted dangerously in his gaze, a trace of savagery twisting his mouth into a grim grimace - _or is that meant to be a grin?_ Philip wondered, unable to quite differentiate between the two - and revealed, "An open letter to the fat, arrogant, anti-charismatic national embarrassment most have the courtesy to call President John Adams. Too long his conduct had been laughable at best and entirely irrational at worst. It is about time he received his due punishment for such poor leadership of the country."

Confused, Philip checked, "I was under the impression you supported the idea of Adams being President for a second term. But you elect instead to openly berate him to his colleagues?"

"Yes." Hamilton agreed, with complete conviction in his plan as he explained, "I shall include my endorsement of him for President as a footnote following the main body of writing."

 _And you don't see the blindingly obvious flaws in this plan of action?_ Phrasing it a touch more tactfully than he truly felt, his intelligent son commented, "If you think a footnote is going to counteract an entire essay of criticism, I'm afraid I suspect you will in fact be making things an awful lot easier for Jefferson and Burr. The latter of whom, by the way, was creating quite a stir in town today; he was openly campaigning for the votes! Theodosia reckoned he was getting his point across, and I have to say I'm inclined to agree after what little I saw of him today."

Hamilton narrowed his eyes, immediately suspicious to hear of the man turning his own back on the method he had followed and preached for years. Not quite speechless, he responded, "That... is a turn around. No matter, I can hardly abandoned my duty to inform my countrymen of the true face of their leader. And if it loses Adams the support he needs..." He visibly braced himself before admitting much to his own chagrin, "I think I would prefer a President who did _not_ spend the majority of his time avoiding responsibility by hiding away in his home state." This time there was no mistaking his grimace for anything other than an expression of revulsion at the bitter taste left in his mouth by the words, "even if that means enduring life under the leadership of Jefferson or Burr."

* * *

Naturally, as a man who so often failed to foresee the potential downfalls of his endeavours, Hamilton was joylessly surprised to discover that Philip's assumption on the effect of his defamatory paper regarding the current President had a drastically detrimental effect on the chances of the single other influential Federalist renewing his position as leader of the United States. Hence the fact that, after the votes had been taken, Adams' chances were as good as obliterated. Burr, on the other hand, had defied all expectations, managing to cobble together just enough votes to cause a tie for the desired seat. Of course, only one of the Republicans could be victorious, so to settle the debate, a second vote was taken.

And another. And another. As well as several more to follow.

Each time, the number of votes mirrored the previous poll; had a candidate managed to secure an additional vote, their opponent stole one of their voters in return, leading to an unending circle of confusion and uncertainty.

Jefferson maintained his honourable, passive approach, something he truly feared the close race might warrant should it later emerge he lost to the man who had supposedly been intending only to run for Vice President. Meanwhile, Burr redoubled his efforts, hating every second of the many he spent in the streets, arranging publicity, and even trudging door to door to firmly drum in his message. He had unalterably set his sights on leadership, and when it was such a tangible fantasy, he was not going to relinquish his opportunity to gather as much favour as possible.

Which was exactly how he came to stand on the doorstep of The Hamilton household in February of 1801, months after the initial votes had been cast. It was Alexander who came to the door, significant surprise palpable as he stepped outside to find his oldest friend and most recent rival waiting with what looked to the world a warm, amiable smile plastered upon his marble features.

He had hardly dared to believe the rumours until he saw with his own eyes Aaron Burr doing exactly the thing he had always seemed so desperately averse to. And that blocked all thoughts rushing rapidly through Hamilton's mind from making their way to his mouth with an uncomfortable jolt of shock.

Filling the silence, Aaron greeted, "Alexander!"

 _He dares to bare that atrocious mockery of a smile at me? I knew he was desperate, yet somehow I thought he was wiser than that. Still, I am interested to discover what entertainment lies in him revealing his true thoughts..._ Humouring him despite himself, Hamilton replied with a matching forced smile, "Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr. Sir, I must admit I did not expect to see you. Though, I doubt _anyone_ knows what to expect from you, considering the fact that you have completely altered your apparently unshakable approach. You have created quite a stir, Sir."

"Indeed. And I feel it is appropriate to credit my change to you, Alexander; your tenacity in chasing your own ambitions is deeply motivational to me."

 _Such smooth, practiced, incredible flattery. It can not possibly be true - he has not changed one bit._ Revealing no hint of his internal suspicions, Hamilton replied mildly, "I see. And I assume it is your pursuit of support which brings you here. What is it you so desire? My vote or my telling my fellow Federalists where to place theirs?" _As if I couldn't guess. He seems to forget I've seen how he is willing to manipulate my talent and influence._

Burr's grin widened impossibly further as Hamilton brought up the subject matter he had wanted to discuss without prompting. Unashamedly pleased to exploit the situation, Burr commented, "Both would be greatly appreciated, Sir." Unspeaking, Hamilton nodded slowly, considering his possibilities. Jumping too quickly to the conclusion that Alexander's apparent tolerance of him guaranteed his endorsement, Burr continued boldly, "You do not know how much it means that you so much as express an interest in my campaign, yet I will gladly take that as a symbol that our friendship has endured the turmoil between us in recent years."

 _Friendship? After all you have done to me - to my beloved family - you dare to call me your friend? You dare to suppose your cruelty has had no harmful effect on the bond we once shared?_ Instead of firing a plethora of insults at the offending creature, Alexander was far less verbose: _"What?"_ Hamilton muttered, a single unintelligible syllable of disbelief uttered from his lips as that last comment broke the fragile veil covering his disgust.

A slight frown upon his brow, Burr elaborated, "I know the actions of yourself and your family has-"

" _My_ actions?" Hamilton asked, entirely incredulous at Burr's attempt to shift the blame for all difficulties onto his shoulders. He did not quite know whether to laugh or scream. Instead, he settled on murmuring, "My family has done nothing shameful towards you. _You_ are the one who deserves the burden of guilt for all the chaos you have caused: you forced me to reveal my affair, shattering my marriage. You manipulated my skills and desire to do good to achieve your own selfish ends. You torture my son for expressing interest in your daughter. And you are sufficiently conceited to suppose for a single second that I would consider endorsing you, when I know exactly the kind of lurking threat you pose to all those you encounter." More comments waited on the tip of his tongue, yet the sudden change in Burr's expression halted him briefly.

Burr sighed, smile fading to an empty look of resignation. Endorsement was the single thing which could redeem him, and he knew it. Losing himself to the tunnels of his own mind, Aaron reflected _, He has every right to be infuriated at all that has passed between us. But so do I - he has done immeasurable injustices to me, too. Him and his son._ That was when he remembered a crucial piece in the puzzle which he had been distracted from by the fervid race for support. _His son._ Mustering a smile in a final desperate attempt to gain favour, he pointed out, with a deceptive look anyone else might mistake for genuine regret, "I had hoped we would be able to set our disagreements aside. Not for our sakes, of course not... But for the sake of our children."

"Our children?" _He is using Philip and Theodosia's relationship to trick me into supporting him?_ Despite the tension building steadily on that doorstep, Hamilton grinned, amused by the way Burr seemed to be willing to stop at literally nothing to win his support. _Look at you, so smug, so certain that you are going to succeed through this disgustingly low last resort. You have told me before that I consider myself the smartest in the room, but this time, it is apparent that you would bestow that title upon yourself. But I_ _can see through you, Sir. I know the view you hold towards Philip and myself. And I am not going to conveniently forget that in order to elevate your position._ Still, following the strategy Burr so regularly adopted, Hamilton feigned compliance. "When you put it like that, I have no choice but to inform my fellow Federalists on my views of what sort of leader you would make. If you will excuse me, Sir, it seems I have an article to write." _Detailing the way you will gladly pretend to believe in views which mean nothing to you, forge alliances you will toss aside in an instant, and drive the country into the ground. Yes, Sir, you will have my views on you made crystalline clear for all to see._ He shut the door without another word, knowing exactly what had to be done.

* * *

 _My opinion, after mature reflection, is that if Jefferson and Burr come with equal votes to the House of Representatives, the former ought to be preferred by the Federalists. Mr. Jefferson is respectably known in Europe, Mr. Burr little, and that little not advantageously for a President of the United States. Mr. Jefferson is a man of easy fortune. Mr. Burr, as I believe, is bankrupt beyond redemption unless by some coup at the expense of the public, and his habits of expense are such that wealth he must have, at any rate. Mr. Jefferson is a man of fair character for probity. Very different ideas are entertained of Mr. Burr by his enemies. Mr. Jefferson, though too revolutionary in his notions, is yet a lover of liberty and will be desirous of something like orderly Government. Mr. Burr loves nothing but himself - Thinks of nothing but his own aggrandizement - and will be content with nothing short of permanent power in his own hands. No compact, that he should make with any passion in his breast except ambition, could be relied upon by himself. How then should we be able to rely upon our agreement with him? Mr. Jefferson I suspect will not dare much. Mr. Burr will dare every thing in the sanguine hope of affecting every thing._

 _If Mr. Jefferson is likely from predilection for France to draw the country into war on her side, Mr. Burr will endeavour to do it for the sake of creating the means of personal power and wealth._

 _This portrait is the result of long and attentive observation of a man with whom I am personally well-acquainted and in respect to whose character I have had peculiar opportunity of forming a correct judgment._

 _By no means, my Dear Sir, let the Federalists be responsible for his Elevation. In a choice of evils, let them take the least: Jefferson is in my view less dangerous than_ _Burr_.

* * *

 **A/N: That's a real extract. Hammy BURRNED him if ya know what I mean...**

 **I did a bad job of explaining it, but the voting system was literally ridiculous. Basically as I understand it, people voted for President and Vice President as one pair, and the pair with most votes became President and Vice President... Then whichever of those 2 had more votes became President, although they needed a majority of 9 states. I think. It's super complicated, there's a good reason it changed after 1801! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this!**


	17. Chapter 17 - Your obedient servant

**A/N: Hey reader! Thank you for your continued support, and for literally _caring_ about this story. And Philip. Guys, I'm scared for him, and I know some of you are too... But I promise he will survive this chapter. That is all I'm gonna promise! This is dedicated to Krista, aka Minniemora, because she has helped me build an idea of Angelica Hamilton, who appears briefly in this chapter! Also, she is honestly the best person, and endlessly kind! Please check out her stories!**

 **Also we left the European Union and, as promised, I cried. You don't care about that. But I DO!**

 **Disclaimer: I am not a creator of Hamilton: an American musical. I have all the respect in the world for those who are. (Tbh if I created Hamilton, there would be way more Lams!)**

* * *

Chapter 17 - Spring 1801

 _Dear Alexander,_

 _I am slow to react to insults to my character, as you well know. Yet upon your latest publication, I considered it necessary to review the detestable behaviour you have displayed towards me, and I can say I was absolutely disgusted when I recalled the many times in which your insolence damaged my opportunities for greatness. Criticism for the sake of our nation's politics, I can tolerate, however I must say that I believe you have made your personal vendetta against me into an instrument with which to effect a political change. This is massively offensive to me, therefore I take your aggression as a prelude to you intending to face me personally and demonstrate your feelings about me. Should you wish to enact a physical manifestation of your scornful attitude towards me, let it be absolutely clear that I shall not shy away from the challenge you present. Not this time, not after everything you have done to damage me up to this point. However, should you withdraw your vile views on me, though it is too late to salvage my success, I would have the courtesy to forgive you. Yet somehow, I doubt you are likely to retract any unwise statement you have made: I have always had the idea that your pride, your unyielding certainty that you are unconditionally correct, will be the death of you. The accuracy of that is something we two will discover all in good time. I have the honour to be_

 _Your obt. servt,_

 _A. Burr_

"Daddy, please, for my sake, don't say anything overly rash! He is foolish, I know, but he has the right to voice his views." Theodosia passionately implored, loitering by the doorway of Burr's office as she hesitated to draw any closer to the man, a volcano on the brink of eruption judging by the loud sound of his quill scratching aggressively at the page of parchment, a single talon of a vicious cat clawing at the page with vengeance.

Refusing to so much as blink so as to keep that threatening letter in his sights, her angered father scarcely reacted, only muttering in a bleak, sturdy, furious voice, "Enough has passed between us that I have surely earned the right to rebuke the accusations he has hurled towards me ceaselessly for decades."

"Father! You will regret anything you say or do while under the influence of your frustration. It makes you irrational, I must insist you wait... calm down, come to terms with defeat, and then embrace the great opportunity of the Vice Presidency. Do you not remember saying that it would be an honour to hold that position?"

"And have you forgotten how close I became to earning a position of so much greater importance?" Burr's voice was a bitter growl as he declared, "it is his fault alone that I have been denied the Presidency, for no reason other than to spite me. Well, it is time he learns that his thoughtless actions, his inability to comment only on things which he is personally involved in, will have drastic consequences."

Theodosia planted her forehead against the door frame, exasperated with his immovable determination. However much it anguished her, there was clearly nothing whatsoever she could say or do to dissuade him from the course he had resolved to embark upon. With a melancholy sigh of resignation, she suggested, "Very well. If I can not influence you to act with so much as a shred of common sense, at least allow me to deliver that letter to him." _If I can not persuade him to amend the content of his letter, the very least I can do is to apologise on his behalf. Perhaps then I would be able to convince at least one man not to dash headfirst into a senseless rivalry littered with insult and violence._

Burr turned to her at the offer, scanning her thoughtfully as he weighed up the likelihood of her actually delivering the letter to his enemy's hands. A stiff nod saw him deciding that, _yes, she would not be so disobedient as to deliberately contradict my intentions in such a large way, nor foolish enough to think that one misplaced letter would put an end to the need to see this rivalry between Hamilton and I come to fruition._ Concluding the note, he ran a nail along an edge to create a sharp, precise fold, and shoved it into an envelope, sealing it with a stamp he plunged onto the parchment with excessive force.

He offered the letter to Theo, finally giving her invitation enough to convince her she could enter the room without the slight tremor of her footsteps causing an eruption. She took the letter from his hot, sweaty palm, pausing to lean down and kiss his cheek gently. Usually, that gesture would have visibly soothed him, but on this occasion it scarcely affected his stance, causing only the most miniscule amount of tension to leave his shoulders. Regarding him with pity in her sweet, sad smile, Theodosia promised, "I am so proud of you, Daddy, no matter what position you hold. No matter what you do, I could never love you any less." _I only hope you aren't making an awful mistake in sending this letter._

Burr inhaled a sharp breath, a touch of humanity returning to him as he answered, "I know. And I know you don't approve..." a desperate look of utter desolation entered his dark, soulful eyes as he pleaded, "I just can't let his behaviour go unpunished. Not this time, my dear Theodosia. Please, try to understand."

 _You have been hurt so much by this man. And though I don't condone you writing something I am sure is threatening to his very life, I can see what has motivated you to do so._ "I do... I'm trying to, anyway," she replied, helpless as she battled with her own conflicting opinions.

Burr sensed her discomfort, and mercifully allowed her to leave the room, which was crackling with so much negative energy following his burst of writing. "Go on, then. Deliver that to Mr Hamilton, then return straight home."

She nodded, and turned away, resigned to do everything of the little within her power to correct the mistake she was certain her beloved father was well on the way to making.

* * *

As she made her way down the pathway to the Hamiltons' front door, the faint sound of music drifted into the Spring air: an elegant yet simple rendition of a half familiar tune, followed by a halting, awkward version of the same melody, most likely played by one with much smaller hands than those of the first pianist. The perfect version repeated, and in the short time it took her to reach the doorstep, Theodosia counted several fewer mistakes in the smaller person's playing. It warmed her heart to imagine the sight she presumed was taking place, of her dear Philip instructing one of his younger siblings on how to play piano, offering praise and advice, placing the young child's hands on the correct keys and encouraging them with a proud smile.

The idea that the letter in her hand could have the ability to throw that happy scenario into turmoil absolutely terrified her. _You can't turn away now. You can only do as you told your father you would, and hope that Mr Hamilton is more willing to listen to reason than he was._ She knocked on the door.

A sound of shuffling from the other side, and then the door was pulled open, revealing a young woman in a dress as sunny as her smile. "Teddy!" Angelica Hamilton was the one who opened the door to Theodosia's half hearted knock, surprised to come face to face with the young woman she had barely seen throughout the years her brother had been building up his relationship with her. She grinned enthusiastically at the sight of the eighteen year old, albeit slightly bashfully due to the look of dread painting the visitor's pretty features.

"Angelica, it's lovely to see you," Theodosia replied amicably, summoning a similar smile from beyond the depths of her inner worry. _My father taught me well,_ she realized. _It's a wonder I haven't already burst into tears upon seeing this girl whose life could be changed forever by whatever unpleasant words lie on this letter._

Filling the silence, Angelica assumed, "You must be here for my older brother. It's strange, usually when he knows you're visiting, he's pacing the hall at least half an hour before you arrive just to make sure that he's the one who greets you!" She giggled at her own comment, and Theodosia realized after just a second too long of remaining silent that she, too, should have laughed. The absence of humour from her face alerted Angelica that something was amiss, and in a much more serious tone, she enquired, "Teddy? What on earth has happened?"

Theodosia attempted valiantly to widen her smile, yet it only brought about a more obvious contrast between the false grin on her lips and the genuine regret in her eyes. "Oh, Teddy," Angelica murmured, stepping closer to wrap her arms the slightly older woman, who gratefully sank into the unexpected embrace.

Seemingly drawing strength from Angelica, Theo straightened up a moment later, extracting herself from the shorter girl's arms with a smile of appreciation. Steadying herself with a deep breath, Theodosia explained, "Actually, I'm not here for Philip on this occasion. He did not know I was coming, and I'd prefer to keep it that way." _I don't think I could look him in the eye knowing I am here to deliver as good as a death threat to his father._ Ignoring the confusion apparent in Angelica's gaze, she requested instead, "I am here to see your Father - I have a letter for him that I decided I would deliver personally."

Angelica nodded, understanding immediately that it was most likely related to the animosity between Theodosia's father and her own. Suddenly the guest's mood seemed perfectly reasonable, and she replied solemnly, "In that case, I please come in. I will show you to his office."

The short walk up the stairs seemed to last torturously long, but when they came to stand outside door she recognized as Hamilton's study, she wished she was still what felt like miles away. From inside, the sound of a quill scratching rapidly over parchment matched the incessant pace of the pounding of her heart.

Without a word to Theo, Angelica knocked twice on the ajar door and called through, "Daddy, you have a visitor."

A moment of silence ensued, before the recognizable sound of a quill being set down, papers being rearranged, and an inconvenienced sigh, before the man answered, "Send him in, my darling."

 _Him?_ Theodosia was immediately sceptical over his assumption that it was a male visitors, before Angelica chuckled, astutely noticing the slight look of insult on her face, and explaining with a quiet murmur, "My little sister and I happen to be the only women who ever enter his office the majority of the time. Unless aunt Angelica decides he has done something to deserve scolding, in which case she doesn't bother to knock." She was relieved to see Theo smirk as she imagined the woman bursting in to shout at the man who often seemed so confident, reducing him to a fearful child with her scathing words. Warmly encouraging the guest, she prompted, "Go on, deliver your letter."

Theodosia nodded, entering the room to find Alexander facing the door already, waiting with a sceptical eyebrow raised, his fingers drumming against the desk in his impatience. When he recognized her as someone who was definitely not a man but rather a very unexpected visitor with something potentially interesting to say, he amended his position, standing up and bowing respectfully, regarding her with curiosity as he greeted, "Miss Theodosia Burr. Of all those who have reason to visit me, I would not have considered you one of them. Even so, I am most interested to discover what it is that brings you here."

Returning a polite curtsey, Theo replied, "I came here to deliver to you a letter from my Father." She held out the envelope to him, hating how her hand trembled slightly, and watched his amiable facial expression turn into one of resentment. Before he could open the letter, she burst into a torrent of apologetic excuses, "I know you and my father have quarrelled, Sir, and I think you are both equally responsible for the aggression which has grown between you over the years. I strongly suspect that letter voices his irritation towards you, and though I pleaded to him not to send it to no avail, I came here because I hoped that perhaps I could convince you not to respond with matching hatred. Please, Mr Hamilton, nothing good can come of your arguments, and you must understand that he only speaks so aggressively because he is so terribly disappointed. So what I am asking you, in essence, is to forgive him for whatever that letter contains."

Hamilton frowned, staring at her with a touch of sympathy for her obvious anxiety, yet until he read the letter, he could not be at all sure how much her pacifying words were needed. So he answered, "I can make no promises about any course of action - or lack thereof - until I know what he has to say to me." The young woman nodded, and watched with palpable nerves as he opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside. As his eyes darted quickly back and forth, his face darkened, gradually becoming more and more consumed with anger, until he reached the end of the page and tossed it aggressively onto his desk, throwing himself back into his chair and picking up a clean sheet of his own to reply.

"Sir, I beg you to have mercy, to refrain from fuelling this fire with further irritation. He will come to terms with his defeat, just as he came to terms with all previous conflicts, and then -"

"Do you have any idea what he said to me?" Hamilton span sharply to face her, eyes alight with dangerous heat as he revealed, "He has as good as challenged me to a duel! What sort of damage would my reputation sustain if I backed down from such a blatant invitation? I am sorry for you, that he is the sort of father who sends such a letter, but I simply cannot even _think_ of ignoring his request."

Growing increasingly frustrated as she came face to face with a second immovable force of determination, an unprecedented burst of courage compelled her to retort, "After publishing a pamphlet revealing your own affair and then a letter being so openly, unprofessionally critical of the only other significant member of your party, I admit I am shocked you still have a shred of honour left to defend! Can you _truly_ be so blind as to think duelling my father is the answer to your problems?" Her glare did not waver as surprise filled his face.

Gradually, his blank shock was replaced by reluctant respect. Begrudgingly, he admitted, "I am not surprised my son is so enamoured with you; I see he is drawn to those he can match wit with." There was a long pause for him to consider his next phrase. Slowly, he decided, "Very well. I shall bear in mind what you have said. I will offer him a second chance to clarify if he truly intended to challenge me so fiercely."

Instant gratitude filled the young woman, allowing her to breathe without what felt like a tight cage trapping her lungs. Her face broke into a beaming smile of relief as she gushed, "Thank you, Sir! I knew you were deserving of all the praise Philip heaps on you. I assure you, he will see, on reflection, that resorting to violence is foolish and unnecessary."

Hamilton smiled, more out of polite courtesy than a matching feeling of relief. He set about continuing his scrawled reply, writing quickly but without the same aggression he had held when he first sat down at his desk. When he was finished, he handed the letter in a sealed envelope to the influential young woman.

"Thank you, Mr Hamilton."

A trace of uncertainty appeared in his eyes, and he warned, "Do not thank me yet. I have offered him a chance to withdraw his threat by pointing out how he neglected to mention a specific circumstance worth duelling over, nothing more. If he does not back down, then make no mistake, neither will I."

 _I must make sure that does not happen, then,_ she decided firmly, offering a bright smile as she answered confidently, "I am certain it will not be allowed to come to that. Goodbye, Sir."

With that, he nodded dismissively, allowing her to leave. She turned away trying to ignore the way the weight of the letter felt like such a heavy burden suddenly. _God, I only hope I can talk some sense into him this time._

She was not given long to worry about that, however, because as soon as she left the office, another Hamilton waited for her. One she had requested not to see:

"Philip. I didn't think -"

"Angelica told me you were here. And she also told me you did not wish to see me." A crease of confusion marred his freckled face, raising an affectionate smile from Theo.

She stepped closer to him, brushing her free hand across his cheek, adoring the clusters of constellations dotting his skin as she replied, "Yet you still come to see me. How very rebellious of you, Mr Hamilton. And, if it's not too bold of me to say, rather charming."

Philip blushed instantly, and coughed, while a muffled squeak from a little way along the hall brought Theo's attention to the unnoticed presences standing there and observing their intimacy, Angelica with the little girl Eliza Holly in her arms while William Stephen and John Church stood either side of her. Upon realizing they were not alone, a delicate rose hue appeared on Theodosia's cheeks, and she withdrew her hand at once, embarrassed to be found acting so openly affectionately in front of an audience. "Well, anyway," Philip continued, clearly trying to ignore the group of siblings watching them, "I feared that something might be wrong, and that perhaps you had decided you were not so fond of me today as you were yesterday. But I don't think that is a problem any more," he shrugged bashfully, while a quiet collective giggle came from the four observing the scene.

"No, not at all," Theo shook her head, and gave a vague excuse, "I was concerned about some business my father had with yours. But I think I have solved the predicament now, so there is no need to be concerned." _At least, I desperately hope not._

Smiling with relief, he teased, "Is that the only explanation I am likely to get as to why you told my little sister to keep your visit a secret?"

Theodosia rolled her eyes, not truly irritated at Philip's digging for further information nor Angelica's blatant disregard of her request - both had perfectly justifiable reasons. Yet she also had a useful excuse to avoid the uncomfortable subject which was gnawing insistently at the corner of her mind, "That happens to be the only explanation I have time to share. My father requested I returned home as soon as I delivered his letter."

 _She is a Burr alright - although, it's not like her to intentionally hide things from me,_ Philip realized. Angelica had seemed concerned about Theodosia when she came to him, and although she claimed to have found a resolution, he was very interested to see what had caused her distress, and to analyse whether it had the potential to hurt her again. Hoping she didn't find it too forward, he suggested, "I have plenty of time to spare. Perhaps we could take a leisurely walk back to your home, and you can tell me everything." _Please, Theo, don't shut me out. I want to help you._

She considered his offer; in the short time she spent mulling it over rather than speaking, her doubts continued to grow - she knew, deep down, there was no guarantee her father would back down, and if he refused... It didn't bear thinking about. The mere suggestion terrified her. And it was that terror she longed to share with someone who would understand unconditionally. Therefore, with a relieved grin, she accepted, "Yes, thank you, that would be lovely."

* * *

The couple had arrived at the Burr residence just as Theodosia concluded her recount of the events which had brought her to his door that morning. As he processed the story, Philip frowned, humming thoughtfully as he reviewed the details in his mind. Theodosia watched with anticipation, hoping illogically that he would neglect to recognize the risk which still existed.

Philip did not fulfil her nonsensical wish. Slowly, he pointed out the fact she was already acutely aware of, "You can't be sure that Burr will calm down. He sounds like he was awfully agitated, and if I know my Father, his supposedly peaceful letter was most likely very passive aggressive."

"I _know_ that!" Theodosia lamented, sighing as she admitted, "I'm so afraid that I'll be incapable of talking my Father down, and I know that, as miraculous as it was that I reached a compromise with your Father today, I won't be able to stall him again if Daddy responds negatively." The worry was apparent in every word, her every syllable dripped with unrealized concerns which stood a chance at coming true.

Attempting to lighten her misery, Philip optimistically commented, "At least that's one good thing that has come from this: you got through to my stubborn Father!" He dared to reach for her hand as he truthfully told her, "I'm very pleased you get along with my family. It matters." She smiled at that, but it reminded tainted with underlying worry. Placing his other hand on her shoulder, he continued, "Your happiness matters, too. I understand why this is such a threatening prospect, and it is to me, too. Both of our families are involved in this, and I promise, I will do everything I can to convince my Father to act sensibly. I already know you will do the same, and between us, I am sure we can find a peaceful solution. Okay?"

She grinned wholeheartedly, reminded of all the reasons that young man consumed her thoughts every waking moment, nodding as she agreed, "Very well. I trust you. We can sort this."

"Of course we can," Philip remarked with playful, flirtatious bravado, "It's you and me working together. Nothing could possibly go wrong!"

That raised a peal of laughter from the young woman, who nodded enthusiastically, before remembering, "As true as that may be, I am afraid that for now we must part ways: it must become just _you_ here outside while _I_ go inside."

"I understand," he agreed, raising her hand to his lips as he bid her a reluctant goodbye. "Until next time, Miss Burr."

* * *

Some would say it is foolish, or even naive, to be hopeful that a storm can be navigated by good intentions alone, particularly when said storm is born of two stubborn titans clashing while both refusing to be moved by a single inch. This fundamental truth was to be discovered by Philip and Theodosia when Hamilton happened across Burr during a walk through the city to cleanse his busy mind.

Burr spotted Alexander first, and immediately his hands balled into fists of frustration. He took a single step closer, but the determined tug on his arm from his little girl halted him - albeit reluctantly. She had convinced him to allow a few days to pass before replying to Hamilton's letter, but though a week had come and gone, his aggression had not faltered in the slightest. "Daddy, please, this is not the time or place for confrontation," she urged with a sharp whisper. Aaron grunted non-committally, but turned away from the despised figure.

The woman tried to guide him swiftly away, however she was a second too slow, as the observant man noticed them just as they were about to turn into another street. A smile spread across Hamilton's lips at the prospect of entertaining himself by tormenting his nemesis. So he called out with too much excitement considering the precarious situation, "Aaron Burr, Sir!"

Burr turned, seething to so much as hear his good name uttered from Alexander's slanderous mouth. His jaw was clenched into a painful smile as he greeted through gritted teeth, "Alexander. I did not expect to see you today."

"Meanwhile, _I_ have been fully anticipating a reply from you for a week." His enthusiasm became a passive challenge as his voice hardened to accuse, "Have you not the courtesy to reply to my benevolent offer for you to clarify exactly what you were insinuating in your last letter? Or are you simply ridden with such extreme levels of cowardice that you are afraid to tell me what you want our course of action to be?"

Theodosia witnessed her father's hatred increase with every antagonizing word, and tightened her hold on him, silently conveying her wish for him to refrain from responding in kind. But it was ineffective, and Burr hardly registered her grip as he growled, "Do you know, I believe I have decided just this instant what path I want to embark upon."

Judging the tone of those words, Hamilton did not doubt that the man had just elected to follow the steps towards a duel, but even so he could not resist the urge to further mock him. Holding a hand to his chest in mock shock, he gasped dramatically, "You? Making a decision? Never!" He laughed without humour, a noise loud enough to draw prying eyes towards the trio.

Including the young man who had been sent to fetch his father back home, and had just reached that crowded portion of street to discover the arguing pair and the horrified woman struggling to placate them. Forcing his way through the growing audience, Philip struggled to reach his father's side, sharing an anxious glance with Theo as he insisted to his role model, "Pops, there's no need for this. Please, can we go home before even more people arrive to witness you intentionally enraging the Vice President?"

Hamilton turned to him, grimacing as he proudly declared loud enough for the closest observers to hear, "We may retreat for now. But it will alter nothing - that man will continue to be a disgrace to politics and a danger to the United States. If he wishes to fight because I am unafraid to say so, then so be it!"

"Pops, come on," Philip encouraged, exasperated, and set about bundling the shorter man away from the judgemental cluster surrounding them. Within a few seconds, he had succeeded in extracting him from the crowd, and felt no hesitation to complain in the newfound privacy, "Did you _have_ to do that? Getting him riled up in public is hardly the best way to avoid an eventual duel!" He rubbed his temple as he lamented, "You don't know - you couldn't even _imagine_ \- how worried Theodosia is about this." Hamilton chuckled, though his son saw nothing amusing in the situation whatsoever. With growing frustration, he admitted, "I'm concerned, too! If it comes to a physical fight..." His words disintegrated, failing him as he imagined the awful possibility which could follow.

Resigned, Alexander placed a hand on his son's shoulder, reassuring him, "You don't have to be afraid. I will... I will not challenge him in public again." _I suppose I can save it for the letters, if I must._

"Good," Philip approved with a firm nod. Beginning to resume his regular sunny attitude, he commented jokingly, "You should have grown out of berating people in front of a crowd to get an adrenaline rush by your age."

Hamilton laughed, shaking his head as he patted the nineteen year old's arm affectionately. "I guess you're right," he agreed, feigning childish frustration.

Yet they should not have been in such high spirits, as they had yet to realize exactly how correct Philip was. For in that crowd, amongst the many nameless faces, one had watched and listened to every aggressive word. His opinions became darker with every sentence, and his mind began constructing defamatory comments regarding one particular aggressor in that argument.

This watching fiend was called George Eacker.


	18. Chapter 18 - All the courage you require

**A/N: Oh my gawshhhhhhhhh guyyyyssss! I'm so distressed by this story! And _I_ know where it's going, so if you guys are anything like me, I feel like you're pretty nervous about our collective son. (Yes, we all have a kid together along with Alexander and Eliza, deal with it.) So, we got introduced to an instrumental figure at the end of the last chapter. And I don't want to give anything away so I can't say anything more, other than thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I swear I watch my stats and it always encourages me to write more when I see how many people have read my story. You are absolutely the best readers, and I will try not to break too many hearts!**

* * *

Chapter 18 - Summer - Autumn 1801

For many years, Alexander Hamilton had avidly celebrated Independence Day, using it as a reason to feel morally obliged to spend a large portion of his day with his adoring wife and their cherubic children, walking with them into the city centre to listen to speeches and praise with pride brimming in his chest both for the miraculously perfect company he kept and for the joyous knowledge that he existed within a free, thriving nation which he himself was helping to build. However, those carefree days ended when he met the infuriating author of the Declaration of Independence, one Thomas Jefferson. No longer did he hold the anniversary in such high esteem, because it was tainted with the knowledge that the man who could be considered responsible was one so disagreeable to him. Therefore, though he acknowledged the fact that his country had reached a milestone, he did not go out of his way to display patriotic delight. And besides, a comfortable stroll with his wife on his arm was simply out of the question.

But if he _had_ made his way into the city on that fateful day, perhaps his presence would have been a sufficient deterrent to the man who rose to speak in front of a crowd of King's College graduates. Instead, Philip was surrounded only by his rowdy classmates as George Eacker, that previously silent, plotting observer, took to the stand in front of the boisterous gaggle of young men. For the most part, Philip had found the speech to be a boring testament to the political party he had learned to despise from his Father's disapproving opinions; Eacker spoke with unbridled awe about Jefferson and Burr, and the Democratic Republican group as a whole, piling irrationally excessive congratulations on the way they ran the country, and for the most part, the young Philip had little interest. But it was when the name he and his family bore was mentioned that his attention was commanded by the speaker, and his passive listening became far more intent:

"And perhaps the most admirable accomplishment of our revered leaders is their ability to correct a government which has been plagued for so long by the harmful interference of a certain scoundrel known as General Hamilton, who is to blame for many of the shortcomings of this country, though thankfully we are spared from him after the steps he generously took towards shattering his own reputation." Philip bristled, visible to his friends, but his scowl was lost amongst the crowd as Eacker continued, "It is an unfortunate miracle that he survived as a politician for so long when he was such an aggressive, impulsive creature. I can recount a time just recently when he had the nerve to taunt our Vice President while Mr Burr was doing nothing more antagonizing than taking a walk. Still, it is no surprise Hamilton is so critical of our elected leaders, as I suspect he would much prefer we existed in a tyrannical monarchy. Even so, President Jefferson is doubtlessly the single greatest man to steer this country away from the treacherous waters Hamilton dragged us towards, and Burr is as good an aid to him as any honourable man."

With that, Eacker concluded his slanderous speech to the sound of polite applause. One man in particular did not join in with the congratulations, however, instead glaring at the speaker with undisguised ferocity. Beside him, one of his friends, Richard Price, attempted to appease him, "Leave him, Phil. He doesn't matter, his words will fade to irrelevance soon enough, so you're better to forget it and enjoy the day's festivities."

Deaf to his insistence, Philip attempted to push forward through the dense crowd towards the stage, his mind set on confrontation. The vast number of people gathered there made movement almost impossible, however, and as Price reached for Philip's arm, the irate teenager turned to face him, desperately trying to convert his friend to his perspective. "He just stood up there and hurled abuse at my Father! You can't tell me you think it is right to allow that kind of behaviour to go unpunished - what kind of man would I be if I did not rebuke his insults to my family's honour?"

Price sighed, admitting reluctantly, "You are correct when you say he is in the wrong. But you need to let it go, else I have no doubt he would make _you_ the next victim of his criticism, and who can tell what reckless action you'd take should that occur." Philip's facial expression was more of a plea than any amount of protest could have been, but Price only encouraged sympathetically, "Let him be. He is not worth your trouble."

Rolling his eyes in complete frustration, the fiery young man was left with no choice but to comply with his friend's logical point. _He is right, I am chagrined to admit - Eacker is unworthy of my disgust._

* * *

However, it is not so easy to recall a sensible resolution when, after consuming enough alcohol that he struggled to walk in a straight line without the support of his drinking friends on either side, the proud man stumbled upon the offending fiend, spotting him in the distance as he disappeared through the doors of a theatre. More inebriated than he should have been, and with no sober influence to point out his folly, Philip broke free from the men who clung to him, leaving them to stumble into one another in their own drunken stupor as he persued with unexpected speed, intent on enacting his rage upon the man who he recalled had spoken so horribly of his admired Father.

Reaching the door of the theatre, the porter noticed the way the young man swayed slightly as he stood there and requested not a seat but "A patron of this establishment, by the name of Mr George Eacker, requires me to be escorted to him." His words remained unaffected by the impact of the alcohol - it was only his judgment that was severely impaired.

Anxious that the man might resort to violence should he refuse, the porter nodded, guiding Philip to the balcony he had just seen Eacker be settled in. Opening the door and swiftly disappearing once the man had entered, the porter left Philip alone with Eacker, one man regarding the unfamiliar newcomer with scepticism and a slight sneer twisting his lips, while the other's accusing eyes burned into the soul of the older man.

"Can I help you? Only, I'm trying to watch this show - a radical notion considering I have booked a private box in a theatre. Oh wait, no it isn't. What do you want?" For someone with such a narrow mind, George was intelligent enough to recognise the obvious signs of inebriation apparent in his unexpected guest, giving him cause enough to be sharp with him.

Predictably, Philip reacted with a burst of aggression as he boldly declared, "I want to confront the man who branded my Father a scoundrel in front of a crowd. I demand you withdraw the disgusting comments you made on the 4th of July. Alexander Hamilton is a man of honour and dignity, not someone deserving of scorn from the likes of _you_."

In the face of that raging fury, Eacker remained unaffected, even daring to chuckle at the man 8 years his junior as he defended the man whose great achievements he aspired to replicate in his own life. Bemused, he responded, "Your father, Alexander Hamilton? That makes you his son, his eldest, by the looks of it. Philip, isn't it? Well, _Phil,_ I can only offer my most sincere apologies... it must be a terrible struggle living with that man, and you have my wholehearted pity."

Shaking as his hands balled instinctively into fists, Philip retorted, "I do not want or need your pity; my Father is a good man, and no matter what he's done, I shoulder his legacy with pride!"

At his remark being refuted, Eacker began to lose patience and humour with the young man. Narrowing his eyes as he analytically scanned him, he decided, "That seems about right. Charging drunkenly into a private box, disturbing an audience with your loud obnoxious behaviour and attacking me as if I have done something shameful? Yes, you are every inch the rascal your Father is."

Outrage bubbling as it raced through his blood, coursing through his veins and igniting an unprecedented reaction, Philip's voice was laced with poison as he demanded disbelievingly, _"What did you just call me?"_

"Hard of hearing, little boy Hamilton? I called you a rascal. Now would you please leave me to watch the play in peace?" He returned, without a shred of reticence or shame as he spoke the words he knew were often a prelude to physical violence.

Philip, too, knew the connotations of that phrase - the truth was evident even though the thick fog of alcohol which clouded his usually rational mind. Nodding with grim, sober determination, he agreed, "So be it. You can enjoy your show for now, but I swear on my honour that this is not the end. We will resume this argument on the duelling grounds. I will expect to hear from your second very soon!"

Not allowing Eacker to utter another word, Philip turned away and left the box. It was only when he reached the street and came face to face with reality that it fully sank in that he had just challenged a man to a duel.

* * *

Following his impulsive actions, the teenager was sensible enough to allow the effects of the drink to wear off before he trudged home, miserably resigned to face the consequences. He did not intend to be anything less than prepared, however, hence his making his way immediately to his Father as soon as he reached the Hamilton household. He made sure to avoid his Mother: her attuned instincts would have caused her to recognise the nerves swimming through her eldest child's entire body, her sensitivity would have compelled her to enquire as to the problem, and then he, in his youthful guilt, would admit the frightful truth to her. He could already envisage the heart wrenching dejection her kind eyes would be consumed with, and he did not think he could stand to know he had caused such pitiful emotion in the adoring Eliza.

So he rushed up the stairs as soon as he entered his home, walking determinedly past the doors to the bedrooms of his many younger siblings and instead heading straight towards the office he knew Alexander occupied.

He knocked and pushed the door open, not waiting for the man to invite him inside out of impatience and anxiety. Hamilton immediately set down his quill at the welcome company of his firstborn, pushing the page he had been scribbling on aside as he greeted, "Philip. What can I do for you?" The young man hesitated, ashamed, which instantly caused his Father some concern, and upon closer inspection, he recognized a deep, budding fear in the nineteen year old's hazel eyes. Voice suddenly heavily laden with matching worry, Hamilton stood and approached the boy as he pressed, "Son, what on earth is the matter?"

Shrinking within his tall figure, Philip winced slightly to recall, "I may have just initiated a duel with George Eacker." Feeling the other man's intense gaze upon him, he felt compelled to defend his actions, bursting into a series of excuses as he explained, "Pops, you weren't there on the 4th of July, you don't know the things he said about you! If you did, it would be _you_ challenging him to a duel, not me. I saw him today, and I just asked him to apologize, but he refused, and he called both of us terrible things, and I would have been sacrificing my honour - our _family's_ honour - if I had backed down."

Alexander nodded thoughtfully, not sure whether he should be disappointed that the son had inherited such a strong sense of the importance of honour from his father or proud of that fact. Regardless, it was abundantly clear that Philip was hugely distressed by the thought of facing Eacker with a weapon in his hand. "Come, sit," he instructed, guiding Philip to his chair and allowing him to collapse gratefully into it. He placed both hands on his son's shoulders as he attempted to deduce a solution. "You were right to maintain your honour, and to an extent I am relieved you did. Even so, it is crucial now that we act with the greatest care, and attempt to -"

"Father, this letter is addressed to Aaron Burr," Philip noticed accusingly from his position at the politician's desk. Before Hamilton could scold him for prying, he had snatched the half-finished note and quickly scanned over the contents, before realizing with a hurt tone, "You must be planning to duel him! I thought we agreed that you would refrain from insulting the man."

A touch of guilt shadowing his words, Alexander pointed out, "I only decided I would not do so in public, so as to spare him humiliation. But, much like you were unable to turn a blind eye to Eacker's criticism, I can not ignore the fact that Burr has approached me with great aggression. I am doing all I can to give him the opportunity to withdraw his threats, but I will not do so myself. It is an unthinkable idea." Running a hand through the young man's dark curls, he remarked, "You no longer have the right to judge me, seeing as you have found your way into a duel of your own. Which, might I add, ought to be our main focus right now."

"Alright," Philip agreed, steeling himself with a deep breath before he asked, "What have I got to do? I don't know anything about duelling." With an infantile grumble, he remembered, "It was all about correct grammar and Pythagoras' theorem in school, not useful advice on what to do when you accidentally become involved in a confrontation."

Alexander chuckled, soothing the boy with a gentle rub of his tense upper back as he decided, "If neither of you back down, then you will have to attend the duel. But I suggest you make it absolutely apparent that you do not intend to harm him by aiming your weapon in the air, and then, with luck, he will reciprocate your peaceful actions."

 _So I stake my life on the hope that a man who has insulted us both is righteous enough to throw away his shot for no reason other than I have done the same?_ "Pops," Philip protested, "I don't want to hurt him, but doesn't that sound overly optimistic? What if the fact that I am defenceless does nothing but give him an open shot on me?"

"And what if you aim for him and unintentionally inflict a mortal wound? You would likely be arrested for murder, and just think what that would do to your Mother! Philip, she couldn't stand the pain of living here without your bright presence lighting our halls," Hamilton replied, firm insistence in every word.

Quietly, the young man murmured the frightening possibility, "He could kill me, whether I aim for the sky or not."

"No," Alexander responded, stoically remaining sure that his solution was the correct one to follow. "If he is honourable, he will do no such thing. You don't want a fellow man's blood on your hands, weighing on your conscience evermore. You must trust me."

A long pause followed as Philip considered it. But then, how could he argue when his Father was the sole person he knew who had ever been involved in a duel before. _Surely his knowledge has to be well informed?_ "Okay. I trust you."

Hamilton leaned down to kiss his forehead, his mind temporarily satisfied he had averted disaster, murmuring as he did so, "Good. You can take my guns, and take care of yourself. Be smart, make me proud, Son."

* * *

A couple of months was all it took for the fierce young men to negotiate a time and location for their battle of courage to take place. Let it be known that Philip Hamilton was in no way a coward, however that did not mean he was immune to the nagging concern lingering in his mind. The ominous sense of foreboding would not relinquish its haunting grip on him, leaving him to imagine the worst possible outcome awaiting him on the duelling ground.

Hamilton was the only soul he had dared to tell, save that of his second, Richard Price, who had initially been the first to urge him against the idea of facing Eacker. There was no chance of him revealing the truth to any other member of his family: they would be consumed with terror and beg him not to go, and he, like the stubborn young Hamilton man he was, would be unable to comply, left instead to upset his beloved family. _It is for the sake of their honour that I am doing this,_ he reminded himself as he sat alone in his room, staring at the wall. _I can not frighten them unnecessarily, it would not be fair on them_.

Yet he could also not talk to his Father about the burden of the growing fear he felt, as Alexander would do nothing but remind the teenager of the advice he had bestowed, and how critical it was for him to follow it. Therefore, he was condemned to spend the final night before his fateful duel in solitude, alone and excluded from engaging in the family life he cherished.

Or so he thought, until his eyes, which had darted all around the room several times, too anxious to stay still, fell upon a letter he had yet to place safely away beside the many others just like it, written in a delicate, elegant swirl which perfectly embodied the writer it had come from. _Theodosia. My dear Theodosia..._

His chest constricted around his pounding heart as he thought of how she would react if she knew about his duel. _She was so terrified about Burr and my Father... I suspect she'd be just as afraid for me. And_ I _am afraid too. I could die tomorrow. I don't want to, but it could happen. I could leave her - leave all of them - without me._

He hadn't truly allowed himself to admit that very real prospect until that moment. And along with it came the realisation, _I need to say goodbye. My siblings I will visit before I leave, telling them how much I love them while not waking them. But that won't work with Theo._

He picked up a clean piece of paper, and began to write a letter, as he knew was customary for those about to engage in conflict. Though, as he wrote half hearted words of affection and excuses, he realized that he was not content to give a letter the privilege of bidding Theodosia goodbye for what could be the final time. _It won't be enough._

 _I will just have to tell her in person._

* * *

Aaron Burr had learned with excruciating reluctance that Theodosia could be trusted to refrain from any inappropriate behaviour when alone with Philip, which removed the need for them to sneak around furtively as they had done in the innocent times of childhood. That said, he still loathed opening the door to find the young man standing there, waiting with what seemed to be scared anticipation.

His voice was flat and tightly restrained as he greeted, "Philip Hamilton. What a _nice_ surprise."

"Please, Sir, could you send Theodosia out? I need to talk to her, and I know it's late, but..." He desperately hoped his pleading expression conveyed some sense of urgency as he begged, "It's very important."

Burr sighed, though for once, he saw that the young man truly was in great need of his daughter's company, though for what reason, he could not begin to guess; even one so sceptical of the potential suitor for his daughter did not predict the possibility of him getting dragged into a violent challenge disguised as a gentlemanly method of settling disputes. So he withdrew wordlessly, feeling a rare burst of pity for the young man, and went to fetch Theo.

She emerged a few moments later, a sunny smile on her lips as she greeted, "Philip! I did not know to expect you!"

Bowing low and pressing a kiss to her hand, her infectious smile lit his own face with radiant warmth. He explained, "I did not plan to visit you myself. But I realized there was something very important I needed to tell you."

Theo nodded, patiently awaiting him to muster the strength to reveal whatever urgent news he held. Her heart fluttered within her chest as she dared to dream that perhaps his urgency, the way he seemed so flustered, and his unexpected visit could be a prelude to confessions of deep love.

Which would have been far preferable to the next thing he revealed: "I came to warn you that tomorrow I will be engaging in a duel from which I may or may not return, depending on whether or not my opponent copies me when I aim at the sky."

Her heart had been aflame with affection. Now, however, it stopped working in its entirety. She did not move at all. The only change was the way a shimmer of tears made silver by the moonlight appeared in her eyes, and her lips parted slightly, allowing a single word of denial to be uttered. " _No_."

A wave of guilt crashed over him, and the voice he had scarcely managed to steady crumbled into a broken plea as he implored, "Please, Theodosia, do not make this any harder than it has to be."

"Then please don't go. You won't..." Words failed Theo as she thought of the torturous idea of him never returning to her. Swallowing her soulful sob, she continued in a hoarse whisper, "I can't lose you, too. I will _not_ say goodbye to another person I love." Another shaky breath, and then she repeated, "I love you, Philip."

That was enough to reduce Philip to tears along with the woman he adored. _It has taken her learning I might die tomorrow to persuade her to admit that she loves me._ He shook his head at the irony as the full force of his sorrow hit him. His heart glowed with joy, but too quickly that flame of delight became a raging, burning blaze of sweet agony. It seemed unbelievably cruel that he should be taunted with the knowledge that his love was returned when he knew full well that he could be shot before he had the opportunity to share a beautiful lifetime with the captivating woman. At the sight of his own tears, Theo wrapped her shaking arms around him, comforting him as well as herself as she committed every single feature of him to her memory. She breathed in deeply, pressed herself fiercely against him, and imagined that she could meld his body to hers like that for all eternity, always able to cradle the man she loved in the safety of her arms.

Realizing with a sob exactly what she was doing, Philip did the same, burying his damp face in her hair as he mumbled repeatedly the only thing he could think to say. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Theo. I'm so sorry."

"No," Theodosia demanded with as much strength as she could dredge up from the depths of her soul, her mouth still pressed against Philip's chest, muffling her words as she continued, "I don't want your apologies. I want you -" _I need you_ " - to promise me you will not let him kill you. You must promise to do whatever it takes to make sure you stay safe and come back to me. Is that understood, Mr Hamilton?"

"I -" _I told my Father I would not shoot him. But I did not know of what would be awaiting my return when I made that agreement._ With Theodosia pressed against him, her heart thudding in unison with his, there was no way he could refuse. "Very well. I promise you."

"Good," she answered, with a delicate sniff.

Somehow managing to smile, Philip stepped away from her, producing a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her. She took it gratefully, and dabbed gently at her tears. Tidied up and at somewhat of a loss for words, she suggested, "I suppose you ought to be getting home, so that you might sleep and be well rested for tomorrow."

"Yes, quite," Philip agreed, similarly quiet following their emotional outburst. "Goodnight, my dear Theodosia," he murmured, starting to descend into a bow to once again kiss her hand.

In an unprecedented flicker of bravery, Theodosia did not allow his lips to make contact with her hand. Instead, she took his face between her palms and pulled his mouth to meet hers, wrapping her arms around his neck as she initiated the passionate kiss with the man she adored.

It was nothing like that sweet, drunken thing she had long since forgotten. No, this was a kiss of pure, unadulterated love, a physical and spiritual release of all that had blossomed beautifully between them over the years, a tantalizing promise of more which could potentially lay in the future, while simultaneously being so desperately deep and insatiable that it was only too obvious that it could possibly be the last one they would ever share. When they finally broke apart, both wore matching smiles and a slight blush, terror momentarily forgotten and replace by demure bashfullness after their moment of intense passion. Philip was the first one to break the relative silence of their heavy, ragged breathing, deciding, "I should be going. But I will be coming back."

Theo nodded, accepting his goodbye. Watching him leave, a the single thought which pierced through the daze of romance in her mind was very similar to that in Philip's head:

 _Please, God, let him return to me. Do not take him from me. I love him._

* * *

The grey dawn was not penetrated by even the tiniest glimpse of sunlight, a bad omen if ever there was one. The five men had boarded the first crossing of the Hudson river, and now paced with nervous impatience as they waited for the formalities to begin.

The seconds approached one another, and engaged in a few minutes of conversation before coming to the conclusion they had expected, and returning to their respective participants.

"It's going ahead," Price grunted, handing his friend the loaded weapon. He nodded to the doctor, signalling that he should retreat until shots were exchanged.

Philip and Eacker took their positions, Philip watching keenly for any trace of mercy in his opponent's vicious glare. He found none.

 _I am sorry, Father. But I promised Theo I would walk away in one piece, and if I fail to shoot, I know that will not be the case._

So, as the seconds counted to ten, he gripped the pistol as firmly as his shaking hands would allow, and with a silent, selfless prayer, _please don't let this bullet kill him,_ raised the weapon and pulled the trigger.

Two shots rang out through the cold, crisp air of the New Jersey duelling grounds on the dawn of the 22nd of October. The first skimmed George Eacker's arm, passing through the fabric of his jacket and scratching his flesh. The second, fired a heartbeat later, buried itself in the hip of Philip Hamilton, meeting the bone with a searing jolt of white hot agony. With a scream of pain, he stumbled instantly to the ground.

One thought struggled to the surface of his mind like a drowning man kicking valiantly towards the surface:

 _Please, I have to live. I can't leave my family and my Theodosia._

Then, the pain became too much, swamping and engulfing his mind as he blacked out.

* * *

 **A/N: *runs and hides* please don't slap me with a tuna!**


	19. Chapter 19 - When the words don't reach

**A/N: I'm gonna talk to you but I'm gonna save it for the end.**

* * *

Chapter 19 - Winter 1801

When Philip opened his eyes, the first thing he became aware of was a sensation that he was most definitely not on solid ground. His entire body seemed to rock from side to side, and it seemed that just inches away from his head, though out of sight, was the sound of rushing water. The next thing he noticed was an agonizing throbbing sourced at his hip. He let out an involuntary whimper the moment he registered that terrible hot pain, unaware and uncaring if there was anyone around to hear his pitiful noise.

A shadow fell on to his face, and an unfamiliar figure leaned over him, pressing something cool to his lips, though he could scarcely sense the presence of the object but for a change in temperature and a slight prickling sensation where he realized it must be set.

A sudden panic threatened to bubble up from inside him at the unfamiliarity and the discomfort, and he opened his mouth to cry out for help, for mercy, for anything. No words were uttered, however. Instead, some liquid trickled slowly down his throat, instantly dulling the instinct to shout and seeming to weigh down his brain until he could barely even think at all.

He caught a couple of fleeting murmurs, "Stop him going into shock... blood loss... quickly..."

Then his consciousness bailed on him again.

* * *

Theodosia had managed to sleep for all of two hours that night, the combination of her deep rooted anxiety for Philip's life along with the thrum of excitement should he be mercifully returned to her safely making it near impossible for her to so much as close her eyes. Exasperated when she woke up from yet another brief, fitful slumber, she resolved to take a stroll through the city, taking in the air of the cold, crisp November morning and hoping that it would soothe her sufficiently that she might be able to return to her bed and steal a few more precious hours of sleep.

She paused to write a brief note for her Father to read if he should rise before she returned, placing it on her pillow and donning suitable clothes so that she could wander outside without the icy breeze penetrating the fabric and chilling her to the bone. When she reached the street, she meandered meaninglessly for a while, studying the cobbled pavements with deep fascination, finding no genuine interest in the cracks in individual stones and marbled designs in others but nonetheless paying attention: she knew if she stood a chance at clearing her mind of thoughts of her lover - good thoughts or bad ones - she had to find something, _anything_ to distract herself.

Yet all ideas of distraction fled her mind to be replaced with nothing but a wall of fear shoving all other thoughts from her head aggressively when she overheard snatches of a few scornful mutterings from across the street:

"... never ending stream of boys with more ego than sense hurrying up there to kill each other. I saw another one coming back today, passed out on the floor of the boat and looking like any breath could be his last. Only a young thing, too, by the looks of it - a student, maybe. I feel sorry for his family - it's such a terrible waste of life."

A cold, icy claw of dread scraped the length of Theodosia's spine, and immediately she knew with awful certainty that the young man in a deathly state had been her Philip.

Forgetting any reservations or inhibitions, she raced immediately to the man who had spoken, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as she dragged him to face her. Her voice high and pleading, she enquired, "Where did they take that man?" The couple of seconds he took to answer felt torturously long, giving her cause to beg, "Please, sir, you don't know how important it is!"

Still taken aback by the panicked young woman gripping fiercely to him, the man stuttered, "I heard his friend tell the doctor that his aunt's house was the closest place he could find a bed. But I don't know where that is, and I did see -"

There was no reason for him to continue his answer, as Theo had fled from him the instant she heard that tiny slither of useful information. It was no use alone, however; with no idea as to the location of the house, her mind jumped swiftly to the realization that she would need the assistance of the Hamilton family if she was to locate him. And so she ran, darting through every back street and shortcut she could remember, chest aching as her heavy, ragged breathing pushed against the constraints of her corset, boots slipping and stumbling on the frozen pavements, skirts hoisted to her knees so as to avoid tripping over and hindering her desperate race. Always lithe and agile, she made good time, but even that short journey felt like a lifetime.

She did not stop until she reached the familiar door, using her arms reached out to touch the wooden panel and slow herself down before she crashed directly into it. She hammered on that door with all the force she could muster, sending great echoing shudders through the house and stirring even the peacefully sleeping children from their dreams.

It was Alexander Hamilton who opened the door, the surprise obvious in his wide, inquisitive eyes as he wondered what circumstances could possibly bring the daughter of Aaron Burr to visit him in such a condition: the lack of sleep was made apparent by the shadows under her eyes, her face was drenched with sweat and tears of fear she hadn't even noticed in her urgency, and the speed with which she had ran was clearly implied by the way she gasped, attempting to regain her breath. Initially, it didn't make sense. Then, in the heartbeat it took for her to summon the ability to speak, he realized.

" _No_." The single word came as a whisper, tears already misting his vision and grief flooding his senses.

"Mr Hamilton... Philip..." Her speech came in short bursts broken up with sharp sighs.

 _"No!_ " He repeated louder, a mournful moan as the meaning fell into place, terrifying him to the very core.

"Your son has been shot." A sob followed her revelation, having the dreadful words spoken aloud from her own lips bringing the universe crashing down around her as the truth sank in. _Shot. My Philip, my love, shot._

Nothing so emotional from Hamilton, however, simply the draining of colour from his face, a dark, impenetrable horror reflected in his expression, and a slight dizzy sway. Then, he fell to the ground, fainting from the sheer horror the news had ignited.

Seeing a physical representation of the feelings raging within her, Theo too sank to the ground, knees giving out beneath her from exhaustion and shock alike. She allowed the tears to roll down her cheeks, wishing with all her heart that Philip could offer her a handkerchief to wipe them away like he had done so recently.

Before she gave in to the fear completely, one thought rose in her mind, _tears won't bring you to your love._ In a broken shout, she cried out for the single other person who could help her, "Elizabeth!"

The desolate call brought the woman hurrying down to discover the source of such a traumatized sound, first confusion, then concern at the sight of her husband collapsed on the ground beside a weeping young woman, caused her brow to furrow. She instinctively took the helpless girl into her arms as she knelt down beside her and murmured, "Theodosia, what has happened here?"

Voice shaking, though somewhat comforted by the warm presence embracing her, Theo explained, "Philip has been shot in a duel. He is at your sister's house. Mr Hamilton fainted when he heard." She gazed shyly up at the elder woman, watching as the light in her eyes died and her face paled. For one awful moment, Theodosia feared Eliza might react as her husband had, collapsing onto the front door step and withholding within her unconscious form the location of her sister's home.

But thankfully, Elizabeth Hamilton was much stronger than her sensitive heart would have suggested, and she steadied herself with a deep, cleansing inhalation of air. When she released it, panic resided in her obsidian eyes, but her mind remained sufficiently capable of functioning that she could instruct, "Take Alexander and place him in a cab. I will warn my children that we are to be absent, and then I will join you both."

Theodosia nodded, too stunned to do anything but comply. While Eliza retreated into the house, she set about the challenging task of hauling a grown man into the street and locating a cab willing to take such a dishevelled pair of passengers.

* * *

 _The sun was shining in through the large window, but the impressive view of the meticulously managed gardens paled into insignificance compared to the woman sitting beside Philip, her focus entirely centred on the piano in front of them. Her fingers moved elegantly over the keys, creating perhaps the most stunning melody the young man had ever heard. He felt compelled to join her, tentatively placing his hands beside hers and mirroring the movements of her delicate hands. As he began to play, she turned to him, a radiant smile lighting her flawless features and putting the glow of the sun's rays which fell into the room to shame. He returned that joyful smile, feeling immediately warmer as he stared into the dark, captivating galaxies shimmering within her eyes..._

"My son... My Philip..." A familiar male voice stirred the boy from his sleep. The older man himself was barely recovering from his own bout of weakness, but the sight of the young teenager writhing and sweating, blood seeping through the bandages wrapped around his hip and an occasional involuntary moan uttered from his parted lips chased the lingering remainders of foggy oblivion from his mind.

As his golden eyes blinked open, the man was the first of the three figures surrounding him that he noticed. _Father, I remember... I didn't do as you told me._ The weight of guilt outweighed even that of the pain in his hip. Voice filled with strained, grating discomfort, he made himself apologise, "Pops, I was going to do it. The sky. But I couldn't... I didn't kill him, did I?" Even though the dim cloud of agony in his eyes, his regret and concern was apparent.

Hamilton's lip trembled with emotion as he set a hand on Philip's damp forehead, whispering comforts as he wiped a few strands of hair aside. "No, son. You skimmed his arm, his body is fine. His soul, on the other hand, is the most twisted, broken thing on this earth."

Gasping as oxygen momentarily struggled to fill his lungs, the boy pleaded, "I never meant to hurt him. I didn't, I know I aimed at him, but I didn't want to hit him. Had he known -" a low groan interrupted him as his wound pulsed aggressively.

A tear rolled slowly down Alexander's crumpled face as he murmured softly, "I know, Philip, I know. You did everything just right. He should have still recognized you would not shoot to kill."

"I should have been aiming at the sky. You told me, and I didn't listen," Philip pointed out bitterly, oblivious to his Mother, who clung fiercely to one of his hands.

On hearing that, she spoke, hissing at her husband with venomous accusation dripping from every word, "You _knew_ he was going? You knew our son, _my baby,_ was going to face that animal, and you didn't think to tell me? To stop him?" It was uncharacteristic for her to be so sharp towards the man she still cared for, but with her eldest child lying with a bullet wound in a room in her sister's house, she was not feeling quite herself.

"Eliza, I -"

"Don't, Alexander. You can't change anything with your apologies," she murmured, marginally calmer after her release of anger.

Further guilt striking him to hear his parents arguing over the condition that, truthfully, his own impulsive actions lead him to, he felt the urgent need to appease the struggling woman. "Mom, it's not his fault. I should have been more careful. I should have remembered to be forgiving and kind, like you always have been... You always said legacy was not important. Mom, I'm so sorry for forgetting what you taught me." His mouth twisted into a grimace, tortured equally by his physical and mental anguish. _You let her down... You have failed them._

"No... No, my love. My brave little son, you are the kindest of men. You do not deserve this suffering, my darling boy, make no mistake." Her voice broke, fading into nothing as her grief got the better of her, rendering her silent. Taking the initiative to do the little she could manage, she stroked her thumb in soothing circles over the back of his hand.

He made a visible effort to calm himself, knowing only too well that it was a dagger in his parents' hearts to see him in such obvious, all-consuming agony. Surprisingly, it was only when he forced his mind to focus on the rapid thumping of his heart that he thought of the last time his heart had seemed so ready to burst out of his chest and into the hands of the lady capable of making him feel such things. He groaned her name, a cry for her to come to his side as well as a statement that he was thinking of her, "Theo..."

"I'm here, Philip. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere, so long as you don't either," she promised, the third figure at his bedside gathering the courage to speak.

Philip jolted, surprised that she was there considering how he knew her Father would feel about her sitting and watching him lay there bleeding. But before he could say anything more to her, that small movement caused a rush of pain to sweep through him, starting in his hip and spreading outwards, causing him to moan a tortured bellow.

At the sound, a doctor entered the room, disturbing the solemn atmosphere as he prompted, "Young Mr Hamilton is in need of more medicine, and his dressings need changing if we want to avoid infection. I will need some privacy."

"My son..." Eliza whispered, turning to the doctor with her pale, tear stained face begging to stay in a way far more emotive and raw than her words would have been capable of doing.

"Come, love," Alexander coaxed, only realizing when she turned sharply to face him that he had referred to her with all the affection and familiarity of a couple who had not been shaken by disaster. Though, perhaps this new breed of emotional torment threw the last into perspective, as Elizabeth said nothing, but nodded, placing her hand in her husband's and allowing him to lead her reluctantly from the room. He gasped at the long absent contact, but he was hardly going to argue against the tiniest piece of joy emerging from the awful situation.

The couple left the room as the doctor dosed Philip with a sip of something from a dark bottle. The action of simply swallowing seemed to cause discomfort, but to Theodosia's relief, it appeared to immediately cause some of the tension to leave Philip's face. His eyes slowly began to close, glancing to his love one last time. His mouth twitched in an attempt at a reassuring smile, and she leaned closer, brushing an affectionate finger over the soft lips she had become intimately familiar with and wishing she had the nerve to do more. Instead, she settled for placing a soft, loving kiss on his forehead and walking away. She refused to say anything like a goodbye to him, and clung to the locket around her neck for comfort that he himself was unable to provide.

 _If I say goodbye, it makes it real. If I say goodbye, he is allowed to leave. And he is absolutely not allowed to leave me._

* * *

Angelica Schuyler Church was always an accommodating hostess, but never more so than she was that day. Upon learning her sister and brother in law, along with a girl of particular significance to her nephew, had been made to leave their ailing son, she immediately led them to the comfort of her parlour room. At first, the four of them were content to sit in silence - or rather, too drained to do anything else other than wait anxiously for the moment when they were allowed to return to Philip's bedside. Angelica had been shocked, to say the least, when earlier that morning two strangers appeared at her door insisting she permit them to set down the eldest of Eliza's children and tend to his wound, but had nonetheless done everything within her power to ensure the young man and his entourage had whatever they needed to fix the broken teenager. Now, she was again met with a wholly unexpected sight: that of an estranged husband and wife holding hands, exchanging no words but staring at their interlocked fingers with nothing short of wonder, despite the ceaseless fountains running down their faces. And again, she was determined to make sure, regardless of her own views on that man lucky enough to call himself the husband of the best of women, that they, too, had everything they needed to complete whatever needed to be said and done.

Noticing the way her youngest guest was fidgeting endlessly, fixing her hair or tapping her foot or crossing and uncrossing her legs or bouncing her knee, she found an excuse to invite, Miss Burr, if you are so restless, please allow me to accompany you for a walk." The young girl opened her mouth to protest, hesitant to move even further from Philip in case he should need her, but Angelica quickly removed any concerns she might have held as she reassured, "We shan't be long, and we shan't go far. Just a short tour of the garden so that we might soothe our nerves and get to know one another."

Theo closed her eyes, still tempted to disagree, but she decided she'd acted improperly enough in the course of the past 24 hours that she could do without refusing the suggestion of her current hostess. Forcing a smile she'd learned to perfect with almost as much accuracy as her Father, she complied, "Yes, thank you, Mrs Church. That would be nice."

And so, the two intelligent women stood and left the couple in solitude to privately mourn the son who was not yet dead, but was teetering perilously close to the edge of his life.

Silence settled back over the room, a heavy, stifling blanket engulfing them in fear and sorrow. Eventually, it was the man who always pushed against all boundaries that struck through, disturbing the sound of nothingness. It was a quiet murmur, yet still it seemed to echo like the loudest shout in the quite room. "I know I should have protected him. And if I could, I would trade places with him. It should be _me_ in there, writhing in pain, fighting for every last breath." Closing his eyes as the painful truth became too much for him to bear, he continued, "God knows, if it were _me_ fighting that battle, it would be better for me to lose it. Your life - _all_ of your lives - would be so much better if I was not a part of them." He seemed to shrink within himself, hunching over and staring into his lap as he found he could not meet her eyes.

A renewed wave of emotion rose in Eliza, and she struggled to respond. Somehow, she found the strength to reply, "No. It would not do me or anyone else an ounce of good to lose my husband. I do not want my child to be laying there with a bullet wound in his hip, but if you think for a moment I would prefer you to suffer rather than him, you are sorely mistaken, Alexander."

"I should have-"

"Perhaps you should have done more, but it is too late to change anything now," Elizabeth soothed, miraculously finding the generosity within herself to share what little semblance of calm she had inside her heart with him. One hand was still in his, but the other she placed on his cheek, making him look at her as she suggested, "The only thing we can do is pray for our boy. Would you join me?"

In his youth, Hamilton had attended Church almost daily, making time in the busy schedule of a college student to sit or kneel and listen to preachers deliver sermons. Truthfully, his heart had not been invested in the monotonous words he repeated with the priests. But now, as he watched Eliza take the silver cross which hung around her neck and clasp her fist around it, he felt compelled to copy, placing his hand on hers and watching as she whispered an indecipherably rapid stream of prayers and blessings. After a moment, he felt the need to add his own prayers, reciting some from long-buried memories, creating some new ones which were more like desperate, wholehearted pleas to some higher power to have mercy on the young man who never intended to hurt a soul.

When they were finished, there was nothing for them to do but stare into one another's eyes, seeking salvation from the chaotic storm taking place in the most unlikely of locations. Once more, Alexander interrupted the quiet scene. "I truly _am_ sorry, Eliza. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry for everything I have done to wrong you. I have never deserved you, and you certainly have done nothing to warrant the pain I have brought you, but -"

"I know," she interrupted. He waited patiently for her to assemble the damaged pieces of her heart, setting aside old heartbreak and forgetting regret enough to continue, "Perhaps you have caused me pain, but right now that is a pain we must endure together. I could not manage without you, Alexander. If we can stay together through this, that will be enough. You have given me happiness too, and I think in times like this, we must cling on to any source of joy we can find."

 _Forgiveness. After all I have done, she is offering me her forgiveness._ That was the moment Hamilton completely shattered, collapsing into Eliza's waiting arms and allowing his tears to become heavy, shaking sobs. After a few heartbeats, Elizabeth could no longer withstand the urge to do the same, yet further rivers pouring from her soul and raining down her cheeks to land in Alexander's thick hair.

They held on for dear life. And, as Eliza had predicted, that was just enough to stop them tumbling into the abyss of nightmares and dread.

* * *

Meanwhile, Angelica and Theodosia were taking the air outside, and engaging in discussions which were infinitely less intense than those taking place inside. Politely being sociable, Theo remarked, "You have a very lovely home, Mrs Church." Her heart was tied to the man inside, so her words sounded empty and flat, without the faintest shred of interest. Even so, Angelica appreciated her effort.

"Please, call me Angelica - I feel we already know one another through how much Philip has spoken of you. And as for my home, it is much easier to keep everything pristine when your husband is absent at work so often!" She chuckled slightly, and Theodosia did the same, though both of them felt no true amusement in that situation. With a brisk sigh, the elder woman corrected herself, "I am only teasing, of course I care very much for my husband, and I miss him when he is gone. But I have to admit, he would have less need to work such long hours had I not insisted we returned to America rather than stay in England."

She could not see at all what benefit the menial discussion offered other than to distract from the building feeling of dread. _But then, maybe that is enough of a benefit to make this worthwhile,_ Theodosia reflected. For the sake of conversation, she enquired, "What made you want to come back?"

Angelica looked surprised, as though it should be obvious. Nevertheless, she explained, "I missed my family terribly. My sisters, of course, and even Alexander. But the deciding factor was that Eliza needed me here after a certain event I am sure you are familiar with, and I could not stand to be an ocean away while she suffered."

 _That makes a lot of sense._ Gradually becoming more curious, Theodosia asked, "Do you think she still needs you? She and Mr Hamilton seemed today to be..."

"Closer? Yes, I suppose they do, but that is a very recent development. And besides, does anyone _ever_ stop needing to be surrounded by the ones they love and who love them in return? Today, for example, had I not been here, your Philip would not have had such easy access to a bed, from where he could receive decent medical attention." Angelica pointed out.

Theo mulled it over, "That is very true. It would be all the more terrible if Philip - Oh! You called him mine, but he is not. He's..." _He loves me, and I love him. So why can't I admit that to her?_

"Come over shy all of a sudden, Theodosia? And after I told you about my own love life, too. How very like your Father." She smiled to take the sting out of her words, before continuing in a more serious tone, "I strongly suspect you share much more than friendship with Philip. And I know he cares very deeply for you. So, in the best interests of him, I urge you, if you feel something for him, please tell him." A grave shadow crossed her face as she admitted forlornly, "I pray that I am mistaken, but I fear you may not have long left to do so."

Before she could reply, Theodosia realized they had arrived back at the door to the impressive home. Relieved to be closer to where Philip rested, she followed the hostess inside. Angelica lead them back to the parlour, but stopped short outside, catching sight of the scene taking place beyond the ajar door.

The sobbing had subsided now, but still the Hamiltons held fiercely on to one another, breathing in the familiar scent of their spouse, rose meeting parchment, spirits intertwining for the first time in an age. Theodosia came to see what had enthralled Angelica so much, and breathed a sigh of relief at what she saw. _It is good they are united rather than torn further apart. They deserve comfort in this horrible time_.

Turning to the younger woman, Angelica smiled, and gently reminded her, "They have set aside their reservations for the sake of allowing love to blossom. Perhaps you can find it within yourself to allow the same?"

* * *

No one was permitted to enter the room that night. Hamilton muttered that in fatal situations in the army, they had only allowed friends to see the injured party when they were certain that nothing more could be done, and that it was a good sign. He lacked conviction.

The only thing the doctor ever reported was that Philip was resting. Theodosia was terrified that he might end up sleeping for an indefinite eternity.

She refused to leave the place, not that Angelica would have considered asking her to do so. Instead she sent a letter of explanation to her Father, and he sent two in response, one to offer commiserations to his daughter, the other to Hamilton, who, with emotions fuelled with uncertainty and impulsivity, fired back a less than savoury response.

Theodosia was provided a bed in the room beside Philip, and though she was convinced that she would be too fearful to make good use of it, the moment she set her head on the pillow, her eyes snapped shut, her sheer exhaustion from the unending stress of the day, her sprint through the city that morning and the lack of sleep from the night before finally caught up to her, rendering her too tired even to dream.

Alexander and Eliza shared a bed.

Angelica wished she could have the luxury of sleeping beside someone she loved, just like every other resident of her home. She comforted herself with the knowledge that she'd seen to it that, even if he was unaware of the fact, her poor nephew was just a wall away from the woman he loved.

And Philip dreamed.

 _Theodosia had stopped playing the piano, and he concluded his own piece in unison, though he had never been content to do so without adding a flare of individuality to the way he moved his fingers over the keys. That made Theo giggle, a sound so beautiful that he thought his heart might burst. A new cause for joy came when she set her hands on his, wordlessly placing her fingers between his and gazing with admiration at the way they seemed to fit together like pieces of a puzzle. He didn't know or care how long he watched her stay like that. All he knew was that he was happy because she was there, and that was enough._

 _After a small infinity, she raised her gaze to stare into his hazel eyes, and he found himself as unable as he was unwilling to break eye contact. She leaned forwards, and it was then that Philip realized the single things which fit together better than their hands were their lips._

* * *

The family had congregated in the parlour for the second day. The doctor had entered the room too, an unreadable expression on his face, and every person felt the awful dread they had temporarily escaped from during the sweet reprieve of sleep settle back in.

"You may see Philip Hamilton now."

 _So there is no hope of saving him._

"He has been incredibly lucky. The bullet met his hip bone rather than any internal organs, which I suspect is owing to the fact that Eacker's aim was ruined by the hit to his arm. And though he is by no means completely healed, I have made sure Philip is comfortable enough to receive company."

 _Does that mean..._

"He will survive this," the doctor confirmed, for all those before him seemed too stunned to fully comprehend the brilliant news.

The four stood, immediately eager to be reunited with the reckless, bold nineteen year old who had come so dramatically close to death. But he had resisted the dark pull of falling forever into oblivion, much to the relief of all those who loved him so dearly. Each and every one of them had to refrain from running out of their anticipation to reach his bedside.

His eyes were closed, but a bright grin lit up his face. There was still a sheen of sweat coating his forehead, but he was obviously breathing much more easily. At the sound of people entering, Philip opened his eyes, as keen to see them as they were to see him. The first thing his gaze fell upon was the way his parents stood so close, arms brushing against one another and hands clasped firmly as one indestructible knot. As they settled beside him, he made no comment on it, but the fact that it remained like that, rather than being a hallucination concocted by his own mind, provided him immense satisfaction.

Deliriously joyful enough to tease him, Elizabeth remarked, "You look terribly happy for someone who has merely escaped death."

He managed a chuckle, wincing slightly as it caused vibrations to travel down and disturb his hip, but unshakably optimistic as he decided, "That is precisely _why_ I'm so happy. Look at me - a hole in my hip but breath left in me yet. Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now."

The adoring mother smiled sweetly, recognizing her own words in the young man. "My beautiful son... You are quite right. We are blessed," she shared a meaningful look with her husband, recalling their joint prayers, before taking the opportunity to kiss Philip's treasured face all over, a display of abundant affection he had no hope of escaping in his bedridden state. He could only pretend to be disgusted as he laughed and wrinkled his nose, causing Theodosia to giggle at his expense.

"And you," he turned his focus to the young woman, grinning with unabashed enthusiasm as he told her, "You are the reason I am alive." Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head, but he would not be dissuaded, "The doctor told me that, had I not followed your advice and skewed Eacker's aim, I would have been struck fatally. You have saved me, and although you are too modest to take credit, I have no doubt it is true."

She smiled fondly at him, but with the audience watching the pair's interactions, she was reluctant to do anything more than scold playfully, "If you had not become involved in a duel in the first place, all this could have been avoided. I had to haul your Father into a cab because he fainted from the shock!"

Hamilton looked somewhat surprised to hear that anecdote - Eliza had neglected to inform him, and of course he had no recollection himself. But at least the way his eyes widened and his mouth fell open distracted all observers from the single tear which had settled on his cheek, so overcome with emotion that he could not contain it within himself. He could not speak over the lump in his throat, but grunted some unintelligible excuse and turned his focus back to his son. Words failed to manifest on his lips, appearing only in his mind. _Philip is right. We are all so unbelievably lucky to be alive right now._

Intelligently noting the man might benefit from taking a moment to compose himself outside the room, Angelica wisely suggested, "Eliza, Alexander, I think perhaps we should give this pair a moment of privacy. I'm sure there is much that they need to say to one another." She gave Theodosia a meaningful glance, before retreating, leaving her relatives to do the same.

Grateful for the solitude, Philip checked, "Did I only imagine you were here yesterday, or did you really come?" Somehow, the idea that she had dedicated so much time to him seemed too touching to possibly be true.

"I was here the moment I heard you were injured, and I stayed here all night," she recounted, chuckling as his eyes widened in surprise. "What is that look for? You could hardly expect me to abandon you here when you had been shot!"

"I bet Burr wasn't pleased," Philip murmured, cynicism not altering the brilliant grin still prevalent on his face.

"He didn't have a say in the matter," Theo retorted, "I was not going to leave you. What if you hadn't..." She could not bring herself to conclude that sentence, for it still struck too close to home. A single centimetre could have caused an entirely different outcome, and that was not something she wanted to dwell on.

Guilt shifting across his optimism and casting a solemn shadow, he apologised, "I truly regret putting you through that. I was thinking about you all the time, which is why I did exactly what you told me."

"I know, you told me that," Theo reminded him gently, touching the back of her hand to his forehead to check that he wasn't suddenly sickening with a temperature as well as his apparent forgetfulness.

"I know what I said, but that's not all I meant," Philip protested, taking her hand to rest affectionately on his cheek instead. As her thumb traced lines between the delicately scattered freckles, he remembered, "I dreamed about you. We were together, and we were playing piano, and I realised that if I did not wake up, I would miss my chance to share that with you again." Adoration radiated from his eyes, his mouth curving into a smile as he watched a matching curve appear on her face. "I wish your father could be here," Philip mumbled, more to himself than the woman at his side.

"Why? So you could show him what a responsible, sensible young man I have chosen to associate myself with?" Theo chuckled, humour sparkling in her dark gaze as she ran her fingers through his matted, tangled hair, attempting to restore him to his former pristine state.

"No, don't be ridiculous." He considered rolling his eyes at the suggestion, but thought better of it. Composing himself, he revealed, "I just wanted to show him that I am not the scoundrel he believes me to be. I am simply a man who loves you. I owe my life to you, and I intend to spend the rest of it by your side." Still he grinned, however the sparkle in his golden gaze was no longer from teasing laughter, but genuine excitement.

Things were starting to fall into place for Theodosia, hence her bemused query, "Are you sure you want to continue along this line of conversation? Judging by the fact that you can muster a grin, I'm sure you've got enough medicine inside you to numb all of your nerves, and I don't doubt it has had some detrimental affect on your ability to make sound decisions."

He laughed, again reaching for her hand of his own accord and squeezing it to reiterate his point as he explained, "Not true. I might have been given lots of medicine, but I can still feel. I can feel your hand in mine, and I can feel in my heart the absolute certainty that I never want to let go. I don't have a ring, and I can't get down on one knee, but that won't stop me asking:" he ignored her gasp and proceeded, "Theodosia Burr, will you marry me?"

The young woman was unexpectedly stunned into silence, and she could have sworn her heart failed to beat. _Marriage? You have scarcely held on to your life, and you deem marriage a worthy celebration? You're right, my Father really ought to be here; how on earth could I tell him..._ A second thought interrupted her, a memory of the previous evening: Angelica's words repeated in her mind, " _They have set aside their reservations for the sake of allowing love to blossom. Perhaps you can find it within yourself to allow the same?"_

Returning the squeeze he had given, she told him, "You have too much courage that it's almost unhealthy... But yes. Philip Hamilton, I will marry you."

As she said the words aloud, a bubble of unexpected laughter rose within her, escaping from her as her heart fluttered back into motion, giddy with delight at the offer she had just accepted. Losing all inhibitions, she flung herself into the eagerly awaiting arms of her best friend-turned-fiancee, narrowly avoiding his hip, and released a squeal of pure excitement as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. The same brilliant thought repeated time and time again in her mind, _I am to marry Philip Hamilton._

The embrace was short lived, however, as the newly engaged woman quickly discovered that regardless of how much you adore and cherish someone, it is always unpleasant it is to be inhaling their sweat. Pulling away with a laugh despite her sneer, she settled for resting her head on his chest instead, pulling up her legs onto the bed so that she could curl into his warm body, the steady drumbeat of his beating heart a promise that he was not going away any time soon.

Philip could not quite process the realization that she had agreed to the offer. Shocked, he clarified, "You realize you just accepted my marriage proposal?"

She giggled at whatever game he was playing, smugly confirming, "Yes, I am quite aware of that fact."

"And you're _sure_ you want to marry me?"

With a sigh of mock frustration, she looked up to him and asked with too little ferocity to be at all effective, "Philip Hamilton, are you going to stop asking stupid questions, or do I have to stop you myself?" A smirk teased the corners of her lips as an idea of how to enforce that punishment struck her.

Following her train of thought, Philip nonchalantly replied, "I think I could think of a few more things to ask..."

"In which case," Theo began, a hint of suggestion in her words as she pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned over her fiancee. There was no need for her to conclude her sentence, not that she would have been able to find the words to do so once she effectively prevented the young man from questioning her any further; she brought her lips to his, losing herself in the sweet, ethereal bliss off kissing the man she loved, safe in the knowledge that there would be many more to follow.

* * *

 **A/N: IS THIS NOT THE BEST KIND OF SURPRISE? THERE YOU ALL WERE, SLAPPING ME WITH TUNA AND VARIOUS OTHER FISH, MEANWHILE I WAS WRITING THIS BEAST OF A CHAPTER! THE LONGEST SINGLE THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN ON MY OWN, WITH 7000 WORDS LIKE WHAAAAAT? (Can you sense my enthusiasm here? Yup, no matter how much you may ship Philidosia, I ship it more!) Guyyss of course I wasn't going to kill our son! I love him and you too much to be that cruel. And HAMILIZA GETTING BACK TOGETHER? So much great stuff happens in this chapter, I swear it was so fun to write, even if I got a bit weepy thinking about poor pained Philip. So here's the idea of how he lived: in reality, Eacker's bullet ripped through his abdomen and sort of obliterated his internal organs. (Don't ask me why Lin says otherwise) But here, Philip hit Eacker's arm, in theory altering his aim, so the bullet goes into the bone instead and STOPS THERE WITHOUT RAVAGING MY POOR SWEET SMOL SON and it's not pleasant but it could be worse. Also I hope it wasn't too cheesy, then again if it is, #sorrynotsorry because I love a good bit of cheesy fluff! As readers of What the heck I gotta do may recall! Thanks for reading, and can I just say my massive appreciation for 10000 views! You are incredible, and more is on the way! (Because oh yeah, Hammy and Burrburr still have to duel, don't they...)**


	20. Chapter 20 - We can never understand

**A/N: Hey guys and gals and non-binary pals, thanks for reading! I figure you quite liked the last chapter! Well, sorry, but we're not done yet. There's 24 parts scheduled for this story, and we've still got some drama to be had! So I invite you to sit back and watch it unfold... This is very much a chapter of two halves! On with the show!**

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Chapter 20 - Spring 1802

As Philip Hamilton would discover, a bizarre sort of confidence comes from avoiding death when it had seemed inevitable; he wasn't made arrogant, as such, it was a subtle change, but a change nonetheless. He was touched with the dizzying sense that things could not possibly go wrong, and that his life would proceed without so much as a single unprecedented disturbance.

It emerged that the damage to Philip's hip was rather severe, and it was several months before he could walk anywhere, although even _that_ was with a twisted grimace of agony and a person on either side supporting the majority of his body weight. So for the most part, save for the day upon which he was transported from his aunt's home to the Hamilton family residence and the few occasions when he insisted he struggled out of his room and down the stairs to integrate with his repaired and increasing family, he remained bound to his bed through the entirety of winter. This meant that, much to his chagrin, he was unable to relive the winter fair he had shown many years ago to his now-fiancee, nor play games of imagination and festive magic with his younger siblings and whirl them through the air as he had always loved to. But it was a price he was willing to pay, and in fact he endured it for the most part with a bright, sunny smile on his face, because he knew that in return for experiencing a few months of pain, he had been given the miraculous gift of life - and one he was particularly eager to begin fully living, since he had been promised the hand of his first and only love. For her part, Theodosia rarely left Philip's side, perfectly satisfied to while away hour after hour held tightly in Philip's adoring embrace, reading or sketching or talking or simply indulging in the pleasure which could be found by just having that precious physical contact with the charming young man with shining golden eyes. More often than not, when Philip had to amble uncomfortably from his bed, it was Theo who formed one of his human crutches. She would not be dissuaded from her daily visit to his side, though Aaron Burr was less than approving. Even so, she argued that she could not and would not neglect her oldest and dearest friend when he had recently come so perilously close to losing his life. Naturally, the thought of spending as much as a day without the joy of seeing the freckled face of her betrothed was also a drastically unappealing prospect, and one she was not willing to entertain, yet this reason was left unsaid to Aaron Burr.

Along with the small detail that she was intending to marry at all.

She could not bring herself to admit her engagement to a man she knew full well that her father despised, on account of the fact that she feared that new discovery could finally launch him headfirst into a bubbling pool of anger, prompting him to resort to physical conflict with Philip's Father.

In all fairness, Philip had neglected to make a formal announcement to his family about their engagement, however his reason had been more related to the fact that he did not want to be swamped by their congratulations or immediate demands that he start making wedding plans before he was fully restored to health, and it was something Theodosia had consented to. Philip, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to the fact that her Father had yet to discover that he was due to acquire a new son, not because Theo took any pleasure whatsoever in hiding the truth from him, in fact it was quite the opposite: It tortured her to pretend that everything regarding the wedding was going without a hitch when she was in fact as good as sure that the discovery would in fact cause huge distress to Aaron Burr, but she hated to burden him with her concerns about future violence, and resolved to do all she could to keep the truth of the animosity which continued to grow between the two politicians hidden from him. Each time she wavered, she strictly reminded herself, _the last thing Philip needs is to have additional problems distracting him from his recovery, especially when those problems revolve around the distinct possibility of his Father engaging in the sort of conflict from which he himself has scarcely escaped with his life._ And so, she kept smiling and visiting, biding her time to reveal the truth to Aaron Burr until after she eventually convinced him to set his rivalry with Hamilton aside.

Only, that had yet to occur, and there was no indication that he would change his supposedly impressionable opinions towards the man any time soon.

* * *

It was Spring when the doctor deemed the young man well enough to move without human accompaniment - though Philip still had to use a pair of bulky crutches to hobble around. Even so, on the very first day he was permitted to do so, he wrote to Theodosia the moment he awoke that morning to insist she should not visit him, and proceeded to make his way laboriously to her home.

A short but timely journey was made longer by a detour en route, to stop at a jewellers and purchase an engagement ring for the bewitching woman. Philip settled for a diamond which seemed to be lit up from within, refracting trial of rainbows into the atmosphere and glimmering majestically in the cool sunlight. It was perhaps the brightest jewel he had ever laid eyes upon, however it did not compare to the sparkling delight in Theo's eyes the moment she caught sight of it, or more specifically, the man who held the elegant gem set in a gleaming gold band.

Philip had shifted awkwardly onto one knee and revealed the piece to Theodosia the moment she opened the door, in an attempt to make official the gesture he had first performed lying in bed and smiling through the discomfort of his pain and a slight haze enforced by the drugs. This time, he knew what the answer was going to be, and grinned up at her expectantly as he excused his dramatic behaviour, "I know I already asked you, but I always imagined I'd be down on one knee when it happened. Well, Miss Burr, will you marry me?"

She rolled her eyes, though her feigned scepticism could not mask the exuberance she felt at seeing him independent and mostly mobile. She indulged his playful game as she pretended to consider the offer, musing, "Perhaps I should refuse someone who takes such egotistical pleasure in hearing me say yes on multiple occasions." He raised a quizzical brow which sent her heart fluttering enough that she could not bring herself to tease him anymore. Placing her hand in his and allowing him to slip the ring onto her finger, she agreed, "Yes, I will marry you. As you already know, Mr Hamilton," she added, with a hint of accusation in her words.

Philip shrugged nonchalantly, utterly free from guilt as he asked, "Is it such a terrible crime that I adore hearing you say those words?"

Theodosia grinned, releasing the full extent of her affection for the young man in that expression alone. She knelt down in front of him to peck his lips sweetly, before drawing away and leaving him with a dazed look of awe in his gaze and a longing for more than one swift kiss from the enchanting woman who now wore his ring. Warmly, and with just a hint of suggestion tugging her lips into a flirtatious smirk, she invited, "Would you like to come in?"

"Very much, only..." Philip hesitated, slightly embarrassed to admit, "I think I'll need your assistance to stand again."

With a bemused chuckle, Theo returned to crouch down to his level before fixing his waist in a firm grip and placing one of his arms over her so that she could manage his weight on her deceptively strong shoulders, hauling him to his feet and quickly returning his crutches to his hands before he toppled over on legs which had become accustomed to laying in bed all day as opposed to wandering through the city and kneeling down to repeat a proposal.

A heartfelt glimmer of adoration and gratitude lighting his face, Philip took Theodosia by the waist and murmured softly, "Thank you. I think you are without a doubt the most unique of women, and it is a blessing to be able to spend a lifetime in your company."

Theo giggled coquettishly and reached up to tangle her hands in the young man's dark curls, gazing deep into his luminous eyes as she replied, "We are both incredibly lucky. And now, if it's not too much trouble, I should appreciate the chance to express my love for my dear fiancee inside, away from any potentially prying eyes who intend to scorn us for the abundance of our affection." _Or alert my clueless Father of exactly how familiar I am becoming with the lips of his rival's son._

Unaware of her second motive, Philip nodded, silently following her as she led him by the hand to the room of the house he was most familiar with: the piano room had been the place he'd first bonded with Theo, and it seemed wonderfully appropriate to return there together since they had promised themselves to one another, especially since the young woman now bore a physical symbol of their binding love.

They came to sit on the piano stool, barely managing to fit on beside each other but both instinctively being willingly blind to that fact without so much as exchanging a glance to agree that they would both be staying exactly where they were; to move would be to place additional distance between them, and that was deemed completely unnecessary by the besotted young couple. Instead, they began to play, pressing the keys with relative disinterest compared to the attention both paid to one another, barely sparing a glance for the piano yet somehow crafting an effortlessly beautiful melody inspired by the sight of unrivalled wonder before them. As the music soared and enveloped them in comforting feelings of shared adoration, their hands drew gradually closer, and when Philip brought his hands to rest on Theodosia's, the music stopped abruptly as she indulged in a luxuriant kiss, longer and deeper and more passionate than the one on the doorstep. When they pulled slowly apart, their hands did not do the same, and they remained peacefully in that position, even after several months both unable to comprehend the delirious enjoyment that came from their relationship and so perfectly satisfied to gaze in wonder at the reflection of their own facial expression.

That is, until Aaron Burr, drawn by the sound of his daughter's piano playing followed by the unwelcome realisation that there was more than one pianist, interrupted the romantic scene, causing Theo to immediately snatch her hands away and return them to her lap before Burr could witness the revealing sign indicative of something much more than simply innocent, platonic admiration, or the incriminating ring which would have confirmed it.

Though Philip was confused, his attention was quickly stolen by the newcomer, who fixed him with a steely glare and a wide smile as he greeted tersely, "Philip Hamilton. It has been a long time since your last visit." _And by far not long enough. I might have dared to hope that your injury opened my poor girl's eyes to the danger which follows your family like a curse._

"Far too long, Sir," Philip replied mildly. "But I suppose you can be expecting to see much more of me, given the recent developments," he pointed out, referring to his engagement, unbeknownst to the host.

Burr, however, assumed he alluded only to his regained ability to walk, and commented, "At the very least, I should think that leg of yours will prevent you from scaling my wall, regardless of your ability to make your way to our home." A warning laid beneath those words, _if you do not comply, you will see the consequences_.

But seeing no reason to come to conflict, Philip reminded Burr, "I see no reason I would even _need_ to. I can proudly use the front door, without any concerns about how honourable it may be perceived to be." _At long last, that old fear of being judged and branded a scoundrel who chases a beautiful young woman with no intention of marrying her can be set aside,_ he realized as he spoke the words, causing a genuine smile to appear on his face to counter Burr's forced one.

 _Does he honestly believe that engaging in a duel has earned him such a reputation that he is above judgment, or has defying death made him suddenly more arrogant?_ Burr pondered, amused by what seemed to be childish naivety. Nevertheless, he was tiring of the conversation, so only nodded, "Yes, quite," and excused himself, disappearing again from the room and still wondering at the forward attitude the young man had displayed.

His exit left Theo exposed to Philip's questions; he turned his full attention to her, reclaiming custody of her hands as he enquired, "Why did you stop him from seeing us holding hands? I know it might become a little bit tense, but it's something he'll simply have to get used to. I mean, what does he expect to happen at our wedding?" His words had been affectionate and gentle, but he realized that she would not meet his eyes at the mention of their wedding, causing him significant alarm as he demanded, "Theo, what has happened?" A trace of paranoia clouding his judgment at the prospect of anything interrupting their planned union, he jumped to the false conclusion, "He has protested to our marriage, has he not? If he has said that we are not able to be wed, I would have expected him to have the decency to tell me so himself. I can convince him, if that's the issue here," he insisted, beginning to rise to his feet before Theodosia pulled him back to sit down.

Voice devoid of emotion as she braced herself to admit the truth, she cut him off sharply, "That is not the issue. My Father has said nothing whatsoever regarding our wedding, because I have not told him of our plans." Instantly, hurt puzzlement flooded Philip's expression, causing her chest to ache as she tried to excuse her hesitation, "I didn't know how to tell him. I know it's exciting, but I also know he wouldn't see it that way." _Instead, he'd see it as another misguided reason to set out to harm your beloved Father._

Confusion gradually being replaced with disappointed comprehension, there was a hint of irritation in his words as he asked, "Out of interest, when _were_ you planning on telling him, if at all? Or was this going to be a guilty secret of yours which you would only reveal once it was too late for him to protest and make you feel bad? When would it come out - would we elope, would we have to move in together, have a child, even, before you decided you could bare the shame of marrying me?" _I see all of that in our future, love. But not if you have any reservations about it._

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not ashamed," Theo insisted, made fierce in her determination to justify her reticence, "I am simply reluctant to break my Father's heart with the information that I am intending to become a Hamilton." Philip flinched, and Theodosia immediately tried to amend her words, but they had already inflicted a fatal wound to her proud lover.

"Because it is so dreadfully terrible to be one of my family, and you can't stand to disappoint the man. I see." He stood, struggling slightly with his crutches but not daring to ask for assistance this time. He looked down at her, frustration and disbelief fighting for dominance in his gaze as he muttered, "Of all the people to judge my family, I would not have thought _you_ were one of them. You've known me for years, and yet clearly I have not done enough in that time to demonstrate how honourable and respectable the Hamiltons can be. I mean, if I had, if you truly believed that I was worthy of marrying you, I know you'd simply explain to Burr that regardless of his mythical opinions, my Father has done a great deal for this country, and that I aspire to follow in his footsteps. If you loved me like I love you, I know you would be as proud to join our ranks as I would be for you to do so." A knife of incorrect realisation struck him in the gut as he clarified, "That's simply not how you feel, is it?"

Theodosia tossed her head back, sighing in annoyance as she attempted to ignore the growing ominous feeling that her world was about to shatter, and pointed out, "It's not as simple as loving one another - don't you see the complications this will cause between our families? Is it any wonder I've been afraid to tell Daddy, and not because I don't think you are a suitable husband, but because I know he will disagree?" She stood, voice raising in tandem with her as she stared almost aggressively into his face. She longed to scream, _how can you be so blind to the fact that the slightest new disturbance could have such awful consequences?_ But she managed to restrain her sharp tongue.

Almost silent by comparison, Philip couldn't stand to look at her, dropping his gaze to the ground as he murmured, "If you were scared, you could have told me. I thought we agreed long ago to combat our struggles together, after all. But instead, you decided to pretend everything was fine. Is it that you don't trust me, in that case? Or are you too much your Father's daughter to ever truly allow me inside your heart?" The pride from dodging death had yet to fade, and allowed irrational, uncharacteristic responses to leave his lips.

"Philip, please," she soothed, thought her words were tinged with genuine fear that setting a single foot wrong could send her relationship tumbling away from her fingertips too quickly to salvage. She set a hand on his shoulder, attempting in vain to mend his damaged ego with her gentle touch and calming words. "It is not your fault. I adore you, and I trust you with my life. It is not my own doubts which make me anxious, it is those of my Father's towards yours." _Towards you, too, as he and I can already see Alexander Hamilton in you. God, I know he is set on facing Mr Hamilton with a weapon in his hand, but if he turned on you, too..._ She shuddered involuntarily at the intolerable idea of the two people she loved most resorting to mindless bloodshed. She continued to appease him, "I know you are a good man, and I know he is, too. But you cannot honestly be surprised that I suspect my Father would be less than delighted at hearing of our wedding plans."

"Oh yes, obviously, because it's so blatantly apparent that my Father has done things to earn Aaron Burr's disdain. Such as, for example, writing his way off of a squalid island on the strength of his determination and talent alone, assisting Washington throughout the duration of the revolutionary war, establishing a national bank to share wealth from the most lucrative areas with the struggling places, generating a sustainable debt plan to raise the country from financial ruin, serving honest legal cases and prosecuting dangerous criminals, and having the courage to be brutally honest with the entire country even when his own reputation is damaged in the process of enlightening them, to name a few things, right?" He suggested sarcastically, highly dubious of her justifications.

"Philip, don't be facetious," she warned, "you know how much I despise the conflict between them, and the very last thing I want is for that to be replicated in -" _or triggered by_ "- our relationship." Even when her irritation at the stubborn, immovable self importance seemed to grow exponentially, so too did her concern that he would not back down from his disillusioned position of pride.

Still unshakably strong willed, he shook his head, a sneer disguising his palpable sadness as he retorted, "What relationship? How can we possibly be together if you are so certain that our families can not be united in peace that you do not even want to tell Burr about your engagement?" He shrugged her hand from his shoulder, feeling suddenly trapped by the stifling touch of a woman he was now afraid was unattainable.

"Please, don't be rash," Theo wisely reminded him, forseeing in that moment an upcoming heartbreak which might never be undone.

Her plea was made in vain, however, as Philip raised his voice to passionately insist, "I will not regret saying the truth which must be spoken, and that is this: I see you hesitating to tell Burr because you and him alike suspect I will become some sort of deceptive, reckless disaster of a man, which is exactly how Burr perceives my Father. But I will not labour under any false pretence, so I am telling you now that I fully intend to be as great a man as Alexander Hamilton, but I am not foolish enough to repeat his mistakes. I am well aware of his many faults, but I stand by my belief that Alexander Hamilton -"

"- Is an arrogant, aggressive, impulsive man, and I refuse to listen to you singing his praises in my house. Philip, I know you worship the man in an infantile fashion, but you must respect the fact that he is very much anathema to me, and listening to you rambling ceaselessly with such ardent admiration for him is hugely disagreeable to a man attempting valiantly to work," Aaron Burr interjected sharply, drawn back to the room against his wishes by the raised voices. Fortunately for the more secretive of the bickering pair, the only distinct words he had recognized had been the name of his nemesis, leading him to draw the conclusion that the young man had began to defend Hamilton's honour, losing all reservations as he did so.

Philip turned to face Burr, a grin as forced and empty as if it had come from the man he spoke to, and replied, "I won't be troubling you with my family loyalty any longer. If you are both convinced that bearing the Hamilton name is such a burden, I will not inconvenience you with sharing that cumbersome load." Turning to Theodosia with enormous pain radiating from his gaze and ruining the facade of indifference, he murmured, "It is not fair to either of us to continue along the path we dreamed of if you consider my surname to be a curse. I will not force you to sacrifice your own respectable reputation in exchange for mine. Our wedding..." He winced at the word, but steadied himself sufficiently to continue despite the pain causing his heart and words to tremble, "There will be no wedding. I will not pester you again. Goodbye, Miss Burr."

He beat as swift an exit as his crutches would enable, unchallenged by a thoroughly confused Aaron Burr and a former fiancee who was left too stunned to so much as cry out the protests her mind was rapidly constructing. It was only when she heard the front door close that she felt her legs buckle beneath her, entirely drained of energy, and she crumpled to the floor, shaking and sobbing as she mourned what she had lost. She had felt that kind of despair fairly recently, when she had feared her love was practically lost. Now that was the case again, though this time it was the fault of as wound to the young man's pride rather than his body.

Still completely failing to comprehend the sudden twist of events, Burr quickly dropped to the ground beside her, kneeling as he encased her in an embrace of unconditional love, rubbing a hand over her back and humming wordless comforts until she could manage to meet his curious gaze. As soon as he saw those pools of despair that formed her tortured eyes, he felt compelled to to ask, "My dear Theodosia, what on earth has happened?"

She shook her head, face contorting wildly as she attempted to put a stop to her tears, and moaned in a mournful wail without any of her previous reluctance to confide in the man, "I was meant to marry him. But I couldn't tell you because I was terrified of breaking your heart and giving you an even greater reason to hate that family, and he interpreted that to mean I was ashamed of him. I wasn't, Daddy, I wanted to be with him, because I love him... But I was scared, and now that has torn us apart." Her voice cracked with emotion, and she could not tolerate seeing the world any longer if she was destined to continue through life without her love. So she simply hid her face in her Father's jacket and cried an endless stream of tears, soaking the fabric after a time and stopping only when she became too exhausted from her exertion to remain awake.

At a loss for what to do, Burr held her all the while, finally scooping the suddenly frail young woman into his arms when her sobs subsided into gentle snores, carrying her to her bedroom and placing her in her bed, tucking a blanket around her as he had done in her childhood. Now, however, it seemed that the problem she had encountered was not the sort that could be corrected with a tender kiss on the cheek, though that did not prevent him from resurrecting the old panacea. As he left her dozing, one thought emerged above the cacophonous confusion lingering in his mind:

 _The foolish pride of the Hamiltons has hurt my family for the last time._

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 **A/N: Oh no oh no oh no... Well, I invite you to take up your discarded fish and act as you see fit. I kinda asked for it! :s But stay tuned!**


	21. Chapter 21 - I will not equivocate

**A/N: Hey reader! Sorry about the last chapter... just bear with me! Okay so I know the Ham/Burr duel was in 1804 but I think that Philip and Theodosia's relationship (or lack thereof) would catalyse everything, hence this chapter being set a couple years earlier! And I know I have made Burr into the bad guy here, but I am also completely certain that he was a great father, so please don't let anything else I write distract you from that! Thank you so much for your support, you brilliant people! And thanks especially to Krista, as Angelica Hamilton again appears here and you have helped me so much with her (as well as so many other things. I swear you are my favourite person, I can not say it enough!) And by the way, for some more Angelica Hamilton as well as stunning OC's, please check out her stories, her username is Minniemora!**

 **Anyways, let's cause some chaos!**

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Chapter 21 - Summer 1802

 _Hamilton,_

 _I am unable to exaggerate the sheer contempt I have for you. Truly, if your son had not performed such an awful injustice to my daughter, I would pity him along with the rest of your unfortunate children that they have to endure the torment of having you as a father. But alas, I can have no pity, as I am instead consumed entirely by anger and loathing towards you and the similar young man who is every bit as arrogant and selfish as you have demonstrated yourself to be on many occasions. Coming into such close proximity to the terrible behaviour you have displayed in your own life when it was replicated in your eldest son's actions, I am left with no alternative option than to openly confront you over the way you have appeared so intent on ruining all prospects for myself and my family. I may have obfuscated in the past, but now I am ready to be brutally blunt with you: I invite you to attend a duel with me at Weehawken on the 11th of July, lest you be branded even more of a coward than you claim I am._

 _I remain, Sir, your obedient servant,_

 _A. Burr_

* * *

No matter how rapid Burr's letters to his nemesis flowed from his quill, there was still more than enough time remaining in his busy schedule for the doting father to spend hours dwelling on the desolate condition of his single child. Since the passing of her mother, Theodosia had been the sole consistent light in his life, never failing to warm his tender, affectionate heart even in the bleakest of times. In general, she was as wonderful and uplifting a presence in his life as the first Theodosia Burr had been, with wit and kindness reminiscent of both her parents. Yet in her state of utter heartbreak, Theo struggled to muster the strength to lift Aaron's spirits, her soul too torn and fractured to even consider the distant dreamlike potential of happiness in her own life, let alone bestow the gift to her father, no matter how hard she tried to mirror his easy smile. She was suffering, and Burr was suffering alongside her, deeply disturbed by the lack of joy in her dulled, defeated eyes which had once radiated unparalleled delight. Truthfully, it was the embodiment of his worst fears made real before his eyes: he had realized through the years that he had been particularly harsh on the young Hamilton man, and more often than not his actions were motivated only by a fear that he might reveal himself to be as self-centred as his abhorrent Father rather than any details founded in reality. Nevertheless, his desire to protect Theodosia from the potential chaos lying in his future had caused Burr to be prejudiced against him, and though in the past he had wondered anxiously whether it had been the correct choice, it was now made crystalline clear that he had been mistaken.

 _I thought I did enough, perhaps too much, to keep my darling girl from any more harm than the awful agony she has already experienced in her short life. But it was not at all sufficient, not by a long shot._

He had sworn from the moment he set eyes on her to ensure he guarded her from danger and created a world in which she would be safe. But even as a young man, it had been clear to him that Hamilton did not act with a shred of restraint, and would defy any measures set out to block him. And seeing as Philip had appeared to act in the same way, there had been little Aaron Burr could do to prevent him from making advances on the young woman, and now he was powerless to do anything but murmur soothing comforts to his child and hold her when the grief became so great that it physically shook her, matching her tears when she could no longer contain them due to the harrowing effect her sorrow had on him. And all the while, he continued to wait for the day when he could finally release years of blame upon the man he deemed wholly responsible for all misfortune he had encountered.

As Hamilton and Burr exchanged writing with increasing pace and severity of language, the dreadful plans were swiftly set. But despite the fact that Theodosia sent letters to her love time and time again with even more regularity than her father displayed, she never received a single reply. That did not dissuade her from her ambition, however, and she continued to write every day without fail to apologise profusely to her former lover for the unintentionally inflicted damage to his honour and dignity that she had somehow caused in her reluctance to admit their since-discarded wedding plans. She wisely avoided mentioning how foolish she found his impulsive abandonment of their engagement over some irrelevant squabble between his own love and pride, instead truthfully reiterating in every letter her immense regret that they had ended their relationship so suddenly and her consistently deep desire to restore the crack which had shattered the earth between them. Burr stated his disapproval, naturally, and a part of Theo's logical mind agreed with him: Philip had rejected her, and they both knew him to be so endlessly stubborn that he was unlikely to rescind his decision. Pleading became more demoralizing with each unanswered letter she wrote, and she longed to cease her one-sided correspondence in favour of salvaging a shred of dignity.

But her romantic heart would not allow it. The only thing which could ever be more torturous than permitting the formerly plentiful pool of friendship and adoration in which they had shared to run dry of her own free will was to turn her back on it altogether. She firmly decided with a level of determination which contradicted her regular bouts of tears that she would do everything she could manage with the strength of her writing alone to heal their fractured love. _We have overcome so many difficulties and complications in our short lives, Philip. I beg you, do not let this be the thing which finally divides us indefinitely._

* * *

 _My dearest Philip,_

 _Words could not convey my infinite heartbreak at our recent division. I am not blind or foolish, that is unless you classify my helpless devotion to what we have been and could become again as foolish, yet I know you well enough to suspect you would never draw such a conclusion, since you are too sweet and optimistic to be so scornful of love. Yes, I have not been ignorant of the fact that you have yet to make reply to my letters. Perhaps you have not read them, or possibly you are simply hoping that I will soon tire of writing and leave you in peace to forget everything we have shared together. But I feel I must inform you that, even over these past few weeks, my heartbreak has not faded in the slightest, rather it has worsened considerably as the time since our last unhappy meeting grows. I can only see this pattern continuing, and I implore you to have mercy on me and reply with an answer so joyful that I no longer need to write to you, and may tell you in person how much you mean to me each and every day. I know I have caused insult, but I have told you several times that I never intended to cause offense, or worse, pain. I would have hoped amidst the darkness surrounding us at present that you might at least have enough lingering affection for me that you would not want to hurt me either. But your silence_ does _hurt me in the most excruciating way, my love, and I beg you shamelessly to spare me this continuing torment._

 _I remain ever and always_

 _Your Theodosia._

* * *

Philip did little but stare intently at the ceiling as he laid in bed, no longer trapped there by the weight of a damaged limb, but restrained there by the enormous sorrow pulling heavily on his sensitive heart. Silently, he cursed the fact that his Mother's gentle nature had made him such a victim to the very thing that the attitude inherited from his father had always made him predestined to lose. It hadn't even slipped through his fingers, either; he had tossed it to the ground with his idiotic spontaneity, trampled it into dust with his thoughtless words, and only stopped to consider the horrible consequences when it was too late to back down from what he'd done. The precise moment was when he arrived home after storming from the Burr residence in a moment of stupidity, and realized only when his Mother commented on how pale he was that he was numb with shock from the action he had taken. Upon recognizing his detachment, however, it swiftly vanished, leaving him to stumble as his grief-struck limbs could no longer support him, melting into an emotional mess in the hallway.

He could not stomach the thought of socializing with his family, neglecting his younger siblings unless they sought him out in his room. He would have hated to cast a miserable shadow over the bubbly happiness now prevalent within the rest of the Hamiltons since Alexander and Elizabeth's reunion. Little did he realize, the absence of his usually exuberant personality which ordinarily exuded all the joyful warmth of the sun enabled a subdued sense of emptiness to settle over the family even so. It was not that he didn't care for his adoring family, who had all become concerned about the change in him and the sudden lack of visits from the guest who never failed to bring a smile to his face, it was simply that he could not stand to see others be so effortlessly normal when for him, the entire foundation of his life, the brightest star around which his universe orbited, was missing. He would not be so jealous as to wish the same feeling of despair upon his little brothers and sisters, but even so, he hated to be reminded that he was entirely alone, with no one to relate to. _How ironic,_ he considered bitterly, _that the single person who could comprehend the agony of the newly gouged hole in my heart is the same person who has been cut out of me to form that gaping wound._

He dared not respond to her letters, though he read every one. He was torn between wishing angrily that they would stop, which would be evidence that Theodosia had moved on, and praying fervently that no such thing occurred so that he might have the tiniest piece of his love to hold on to and cherish in lieu of the woman herself.

Much as he continued to adore and miss the young lady he had hoped to make his wife, he could not trust himself to respond to her; he did not trust himself not to gush out his own apologies and beg for her forgiveness, yet he could not ignore the thought that it would be a terrible idea for him to do so: _things disintegrated for a reason, they must have done. If she was so fearful of telling Burr, it has to mean that she felt she could not strongly justify our love. Which means she had no faith in our relationship, which guaranteed that it was eventually destined to fail,_ he wrongly assumed, and reminded himself so every time he felt tempted to write to her. He was still oblivious to the true reason that had made Theo so fearful: she suspected their engagement might push her Father to resort to violence against Hamilton. And now, in their separate but simultaneous heartbreak, both had become distracted from the fact that the very thing they had struggled to prevent was becoming a reality.

* * *

For weeks, Philip scarcely left the solitude of his bedroom, and his most frequent visitors were his mother Eliza and his sister Angelica, to deliver either food or letters and fruitlessly attempt to coax him to enter the rest of the house. Occasionally, the younger boys came in groups of twos or threes to play card games or request his assistance in their educational endeavours with which he would gladly assist, or his youngest sister Eliza Holly would arrive without so much as a knock to announce herself, then clamber into his lap and begin to braid his curly hair in a valiant effort to lift his spirits, and from time to time even gruff young Alexander would sit with him and discuss anything at all to distract the brother he respected and admired so much from the bleak thoughts which consumed his mind. They had yet to draw a confession of the true cause of his emotional suffering from him, as they had never even had an inkling of the young couple's engagement so could not logically deduce that it had broken down. But Angelica Hamilton was determined to extract the honest reason for her closest brother's torment, hence her tentative visit to him before even the break of dawn on this specific day, knowing he would already be awake from the sound of his restless pacing which had woken the light sleeper and left her unable to resume her slumber until she had done something, _anything_ at all, to help him.

He recognized her light knock immediately, and slumped onto his bed to give the impression that he was sleeping, not quite sure if he could endure her sunny presence when he felt so grey himself. Angelica, however, was every bit as skilled at making logical and correct deductions as the woman she had been named after, and called softly, "I heard the creaking of your bed springs, and I know you're awake. And now, thanks to you, I am too, so you had better let me come in.'

Peeved by the way she quickly saw through his pitiful attempt to avoid company, he reluctantly uttered a grunt which she had learned to take as his permission for her to enter. When he recognized that she wore an almost offensively cheerful expression, he couldn't help regretting that he'd acknowledged her at all. Even so, he felt morally obliged to ask out of familial affection, "What do you want?"

"That's no way to greet your favourite sister, you old grump," Angelica taunted, feigning being insulted as holding a hand to her chest in shock as she flung herself onto the foot of his bed. He hardly even glanced at her, not exactly in the mood to handle the bubbly girl in her state of boundless zeal for life.

Attempting to convey his uncharacteristic disinterest, he commented, "Pretending to be hurt doesn't suit you, I can see through it without any problem whatsoever. And you should know I don't have favourites when it comes to my siblings - though you _are_ perhaps the most annoying of them all." He did not mean that in the slightest, but with any luck, he hoped it would demonstrate how unwilling he was to engage in amiable conversation.

Rolling her eyes and smirking, able to read him just as easily as he could her, she criticized, "You won't get rid of me with a few harsh words, Phil, I know you love me really. And if you must know, I wondered if I might convince my big brother to come and play piano with me. I know it's early, but Mother would love to be woken up by the sound of her eldest children playing for her, and it's been so long since we had a real competition, I hoped -"

"There's a very good reason we haven't played competitively in years, and that is because it's childish and immature. You're supposed to be enough of an adult to realize that, Angie, but if you're so desperate, go and ask Alex. Better yet, ask Eliza, I think a toddler would be more than happy to go along with your infantile suggestion," he responded, though even in his state of disconnection he recognized as soon as he said the words that he had been too sharp on her. _For God's sake, Philip, she's only trying to help,_ he scolded himself, quickly apologising, "I'm sorry, Angie, I didn't mean that. I'm just not feeling quite myself at the moment. And playing piano... It's not childish, I promise." _It's not the first time I've wrongfully claimed so, though last time, it was my dearest Theo that taught me otherwise..._ Choked by the memory of the first dinner party she had hosted, he quickly put an end to his explanations, "It just struck a chord." _How can I revisit the instrument which first brought my estranged Theodosia and I together? I don't think I could stand it._

With a sympathetic smile, Angelica enquired, "Was that an intentional pun?" He frowned, before raising a small smile as he realized what she meant. Feeling more sure of herself after seeing the tiny piece of the jovial brother she was used to knowing return, she continued, "Of course it wasn't, you're obviously too upset over Teddy to make jokes. And I suppose the piano was a bad idea - it was something you did together, was it not?" It was apparent in the way she leaned in with great interest that she had many more questions which needed to be resolved.

The young man heaved a deep sigh as though discussing the uncomfortable subject caused him physical strain. Even so, he could not deny his persistent sister the answers she was determined to receive, so he reluctantly straightened up from his slouched position and patted the space next to him, permitting her to sit comfortably beside him rather than remaining perched on the edge of his bed. As she immediately filled the offered space and leaned fondly against her elder brother, he checked, "Must we absolutely do this? I mean, are you sure you want to dive into the fetid pit of my emotions?"

"Of course!" Angelica exclaimed, legitimately surprised that he had dared to suggest escaping her personal questions was even a conceivable option. She settled herself down, making it apparent via her relaxed stance that she would not be leaving him in peace until she was satisfied with every detail.

Again huffing to reiterate his exasperation, Philip replied, "Yes, Theo and I played piano together." Once her name left his lips, it suddenly appeared that his mind refused to stop thinking about her and in turn began enabling him to continue talking without even thinking about how much or little to reveal to Angelica: "It happens that we first bonded over playing piano, and we also ended our relationship in front of the very same one - a sort of full circle of events which had to occur but must now be consigned to oblivion, if you will, only I feel I've left a part of myself behind, and I can't return to claim it back. It was all so ridiculous, upon reflection, I was being a proud, egotistical idiot and I assumed the worst, even though I know now that if I'd only stopped and listened to her, I would have understood why she behaved as she did."

His speech had descended into something of a ramble, and Angelica had no option but to enquire with a cocked brow, "What exactly _did_ she supposedly do?"

"She didn't tell Burr that we were engaged," he revealed, though with none of the grandeur which might have been expected to accompany such an announcement. Angelica, on the other hand, gasped aloud, which Philip ignored as he proceeded to rant about his own behaviour, "She told me that she hesitated because she was afraid of upsetting him, but I refused to accept that." Throwing his hands shamefully over his face, he lamented, "I was stupid enough to believe that it was because she was ashamed of me, as otherwise she would be able to explain to his how undeserving I am of his scorn."

"And then?" Angelica pressed, thoroughly engaged despite Philip's bleak tone.

"And then I told her that she would not be made to become a Hamilton if her opinions of us were so low." He hung his head, recognizing as he ran over the situation mentally yet again that he had acted with irrationality and inordinate amounts of pride.

Angelica winced, sympathetic as she acknowledged, "That could have been far more tactfully handled, I admit. But I know you haven't been quite yourself since the duel, you've presented yourself as almost invincible at times. Which has most definitely been a mistake on your part, although I admit that since you ended your engagement your disillusion has faded, and you seem like a man who has been brought back to earth after his time floating above us mere mortals. But anyway, as someone who knows you I am well aware that you had been feeling slightly detached from reality until things went so wrong between you, and she ought to know you well enough that she'd realize that too. I'm sure she'd decide that your actions were not made with any consideration whatsoever and forgive you - that is, if you could only bring yourself to apologise."

Philip groaned, deeply irritated more with himself and his own negligence than with anyone else, and admitted in a bashful murmur, "Even if there's a slightest chance that was true, I know she couldn't comprehend why I haven't replied to a single one of her letters. What kind of lover leaves the one they intend to marry without a response?" Angelica opened her mouth to reply, but Philip cut her off, "No, Angie. She hasn't stopped writing yet, but she _must_ have lost hope by now that I will ever reply, and decided that if nothing is ever going to come of it, there is no harm in being persistent. She's by far the most intelligent woman I've ever met, and she should have assumed by now that if I was going to try and apologise, I would probably have done it before she sent me so many letters." _Why didn't I just go and grovel to her for forgiveness straight away? Now I wouldn't be surprised if she couldn't bring herself to forgive me for simply treating her with so little care following our split._ Though truly there was a justifiable reason for his stubborn lack of reply, one he would not confess even to his most trusted sister: _Theo was afraid to tell Aaron Burr because she quite correctly assumed he'd be devastated. I know how much her sole surviving parent means to her, and I don't want to be the reason their close bond disappears._

There was nothing but sympathy in the young woman's eyes, and the enormous volume of it was almost enough to make him feel sick. He was meant to be bold and courageous, his Father's son, but his Mother's gentle heart had not forsaken him, and he was as shattered by this loss of love as Eliza had been by her own marital complications. So as not to interrupt the fragile sense which came with the quiet, Angelica replied comfortingly, "You can not be sure of anything for certain unless you try. It's so clear how much you love her - you were going to marry her, doesn't that suggest that this was not the kind of relationship you can simply toss aside?" Despite the fact that she feared Philip might be correct about Theo's response, she remained hopeful as she encouraged, "Please, tell me you'll at least try and make things right? Misery looks awful on anyone, especially one who is usually so cheerful."

He rolled his eyes, initially sceptical about her positivity. But then, Philip had always hated to refuse even the most extreme requests made by his siblings. The older brother did not reply verbally, but his anxious look of anticipation was enough to indicate that he was considering taking some form of action. Excitement lit up her face, and it began to ignite a timid matching spark within the young man himself, giving him the nerve to answer, "I know I would regret allowing this to pass me by. And if I must go on my hands and knees to convince Theodosia of my genuine regret for the disappearance of our love, then so be it." _Pride has ruined my engagement already, and I will not allow it to deny me even the slimmest chance to be forgiven._

Instantly, his junior by two years grinned widely, and as she caught him in an enthusiastic embrace, he couldn't resist the urge to mirror her joy. Whether his endeavours were successful or not, the mere idea of contacting the enchanting woman again set his heart aflame. And despite the cruel odds stacked against them, he had a brave thought whispering from the back of his mind that _things might just turn out well. I was sure once before that we could justify our love to Burr, and I am certain that if we heal this rift between us, he will learn to accept me as hers. Theodosia can keep her Father, and I can keep my love._

That state of palpable optimism greeted Alexander Hamilton when he entered the room. He stopped, initially surprised to discover two of his children not only very much awake but also embracing. It provided him with a warm, albeit bittersweet for reasons known only to himself at that time, feeling. He was reassured that his son would be fine, that his family was strong enough to unite and support one another through any strife they might encounter. So he was amused and affectionate as he enquired, "What's this I find?"

Both teenagers broke their hug to look at the man they both adored, directing their undivided attention to him. It was Philip who spoke, "Angie was just trying to lift my sombre mood."

"And it seems I succeeded," Angelica boasted, desperate to impress the man who never failed to be blown away by the achievements of his offspring.

As expected, their Father's dark eyes glowed with admiration, and he approached the two eldest of his children, placing a kiss on Angelica's forehead as he murmured, "You are a very good girl. You never fail to make me proud to be your Father. And you," without prompting, he included Philip in his praise as he kissed his forehead too, "My death defying son, the light in all of our lives. I am also terribly glad to have you as my child, and I am undeserving of the unwavering admiration you have for me. In fact, there are times when I wish I could be more like you."

The young man chuckled, by now accustomed to the way Hamilton sometimes displayed his fatherly affection in such an emotional way but flattered and amused even so. However, when Hamilton did not alter the direction of conversation and instead elected to place a hand on the shoulders of each of the teenagers and gaze into their faces as though breaking eye contact might allow them to be torn away from him forever, Philip began to become slightly intrigued by what exactly had lead to such behaviour. He carefully analysed the man's words, _he's so proud. He called me his death defying son... and he wants to be like me._ As soon as the observant analyst made the connection between both statements, his smile fell as his body temperature plummeted, his blood replaced by solid ice chilling his veins horribly. And was it not familiar - to slip unnoticed into the room of your supposedly sleeping loved ones and utter to their unconscious form how much you adore them? He had done the very same thing before he set off to meet Eacker on the duelling grounds.

He managed to refrain from using the urgent tone he was certain the situation required as he suggested, "Angie, could you please leave me to talk with Pops? I've got something very important to discuss."

Assuming that it was simply a matter of irrelevance, she gladly complied, pausing to kiss Alexander's cheek before retreating with a smile of encouragement to her brother. "She's a wonderful woman, truly a credit to her family," Hamilton mused, absent minded seeing as his thoughts in that moment revolved around his upcoming conflict.

"Which is exactly why she doesn't deserve to experience the consequences of what I suspect you are planning." His sharp, hushed comment brought Hamilton back to the room, and earned a quizzical look from the older man, but it did not discourage the boy in the slightest. With a deep level of seriousness, he asked, "I have considered your actions, and arrived at the logical conclusion. I only want an honest confirmation or denial, no excuses or explanations: Pops, are you on your way to a duel?"

Hamilton was stunned into silence, not quite able to comprehend the idea that his son had deduced his intentions. Briefly he considered a small, innocent deception, though his ability to speak solely of the truth as he perceived it meant that it would not be convincing in the slightest. _He will know if I lie,_ he realized with a resigned sigh, he admitted, "Yes. Today, I am going to duel with Aaron Burr, and no plea from my own child can dissuade me."

* * *

 **A/N: HAMMY NOOO!**

 **Guys we're so close to the end now! Thank you for sticking with me for so long, and *Vanessa voice* it won't be long now! Any day!**


	22. Chapter 22 - We can turn the tide

**A/N: HOLY COW PEOPLE WE ARE 22/24 SECTIONS COMPLETE! Thanks again for your patience in reading this. Hopefully I will be able to complete this before next Tuesday, I really don't want to leave you all on a cliffhanger, but I'm going on holiday to Italy then and probably won't be able to upload anything... But I'm gonna try to get it done! Even though I don't want it to end, I want to give you guys a conclusion to this journey you're taking with me. I adore you all, I swear your comments and follows and favourites always make me smile!**

 **And speaking of smiles, can we all send some positivity and happy thoughts to Javi? He is a brilliant human, but it seems he's been having some dodgy reviews for his performance as Hamilton - not because he isn't insanely talented, simply because he isn't Lin. But I am sure he is wonderful, so please remember to appreciate him as well as all the new cast members!**

* * *

Chapter 22 - Summer 1802

 _Yes_. Philip stopped listening as soon as the awful word left his Father's lips. Immediately, a frighteningly strong sense of ominous fear settled in the pit of his stomach, chilling him to the very core and freezing his blood as it seemed to completely stop, along with his heart, his entire body suddenly ceasing to function as the memories of his own agonizing encounter with the duelling grounds flooded his mind: the writhing on the floor of the boat, the screams as he sensed something slice into his body and extract the bloody bullet with a vivid stab of agony in spite of the countless painkillers he had been dosed with, the nausea he felt as he saw a black wave of death lapping morbidly behind his eyes, and the lurking threat that it would overcome him completely.

He had been ridiculously lucky to escape with his life, he knew that without even a shadow of a doubt. But should Alexander follow in his footsteps, there was no guarantee he - or Burr, for that matter - would have the same good fortune. There was only one word to counter his Father, "No."

Exhaling, Hamilton attempted to placate the headstrong youth, placing a hand on his shoulder as he began to point out, "I just told you that you can not prevent -"

"Have you forgotten?" Philip interrupted, his heart starting to return to action with the urgency he felt to dissuade his Father from making a foolish decision. There was a hint of outrage in his voice as he reminded Hamilton, "I could have died - I came so close, I could have left my siblings without their eldest brother, and my parents without their firstborn child. It is bad enough that I ever had to risk that, and I've learned my lesson from my close encounter with death. But it seems _you_ have not learned, instead you are willing to risk leaving seven children without a Father, and a wife without her husband."

A flash of pain crossed Hamilton's face: Philip's argument made logical sense, he should truly have realized how idiotic it is to resort to gun violence to settle disputes. Instead, however, he had taken a very different lesson from his son's near-death experience. A look of hard determination set his mouth in a humourless line as he defended his position, "I took considerable knowledge from your own duel. Upon analysis, I believe you would never have been shot had you not discharged your own weapon. Therefore, if I make my intentions of shooting at the sky obvious to him, he will act with matching gallantry."

 _He believes that. He truly thinks that is going to work._ Philip had to struggle to calm his tone before replying, and even then his words were laced with almost aggressive disbelief as he queried, "Are you _honestly_ trying to tell me with a degree of certainty that the man who you have always told me is untrustworthy is liable to act with civility? He will have a pistol in his hand and a lifelong rival in front of him, there can be no doubt that he will take the rare opportunity while he has it, whether he himself is in danger or not."

"Perhaps I have more trust in my first friend than you do, Son," Alexander murmured quietly, his words sounding soft and fragile compared to Philip's impassioned outburst. _We may be rivals now, but it has not always been that way. He must remember that, he couldn't turn his back on the past we shared as friends and comrades in such a final manner._ In some ways, considering the fact that his son's determination was so immovable, it made perfect sense that the man from which he learned was even more stubbornly attached to his own beliefs than Philip was himself, and for the first time it was the son who was on the opposing side.

And yet, Philip could not find it within himself to berate the Father he had a perpetual admiration for. He only gazed at the man with pity and answered, "I can only hope you are right. But please," he added as a desperate afterthought, "bear in mind what the doctor told me: if I had not shot my opponent, I would have been dead. Yet shooting Eacker didn't mean that he died, he is still -"

"Philip, enough. You of all people should be able to understand how crucial it is that I uphold our honour, so I will go, and I will return without having fired a single bullet." The older man's tone was firm but warm, understanding his child's urgency to prevent an injury but opting to ignore the sensible argument. The fiery teenager did not dare argue with that tone, at least not verbally, though the dissatisfaction in his golden gaze told another story entirely, an unspoken terror that the man would not return. Sympathetic, Hamilton drew the boy close, clasping him in a parting embrace intended to be brief, but which became unexpectedly fierce as the younger Hamilton gripped tightly to elder one, dreaming nonsensically that he could convey by actions rather than words how intolerable the mere idea of losing the man was. Recognizing his former self, a young man deathly afraid of having someone he cared for torn away from him by the merciless claws of death, in Philip, Alexander returned with matching emotion in his arms, before releasing the young man and mustering a shaky smile. With a falsely nonchalant shrug, he muttered, "Most disputes die and no one shoots."

 _Not in my experience_. But Philip could only nod, and watch his proud father leave on the way to what he presumed to be his certain death. Or if not his, if his words had some late impact, then Aaron Burr's. _My Father or the Father of the woman I adore - what a choice,_ he thought bitterly. However, another idea was quick to follow, _perhaps Theodosia is feeling exactly the same; the simple fact that my Father refused to see sense does not ensure that hers will be just as stubborn._

With all the urgency required by the matter of life and death, he threw himself into the chair at his desk, grabbing a pen and paper and setting to scribbling the most concise version of events he could manage. His hands shook with nerves, slowing the process slightly, but even so he had written the note within a single minute.

His letter completed, he rose, only to fall back into the seat as he realized one small complication: _I can surely not bring myself to see Theodosia under these awful circumstances, especially after our last interaction_. He did not know exactly what he expected from his next meeting with her, but he surely did not want to be the bearer of such horrendous news.

"Angelica!" He called for her, hoping she would be merciful enough to deliver the note without first demanding an explanation - she would become hysterical if she discovered the truth, of that he was certain. Thankfully, she had been loitering only a few metres away, not so as to eavesdrop, but to be able to return to her elder brother if he should require more counselling from her. The letter was the first thing she noticed, and she did not hesitate to swipe it from him as he ordered, "Please, take this to Theodosia immediately. It is of utmost importance she reads it as soon as possible, so you must run - or better yet, take a cab," he tossed his wallet to her so that she would not have to disturb their sleeping Mother to ask for sufficient funds. _With luck, we can avoid disaster and she need never know the perilous position her husband put himself in to protect his honour._

The Burr residence was not far away, but sensing some underlying urgency beneath what she assumed to be a love letter, the teenager nodded, glad to comply on her brother's behalf.

Yet in delegating responsibility to her, Philip had condemned himself to the torturous wait of anticipation, eager for news while being terrified of the potential content. So there was nothing he could do but wait and worry, trying to the best of his ability to refrain from making a futile attempt to persue Hamilton.

* * *

Angelica made good time, however Theodosia did not need to await her arrival in order to become suspicious of her Father. She had woken inordinately early to the sound of clattering from Burr's office as he rummaged around under his meticulously arranged desk. Curiosity piqued, she had followed the noise, arriving in perfect time to see him withdraw a box she had never seen before. Even so, from the shape and size of it, she could deduce precisely what murderous weapons laid within. The sight of that, along with the way a letter laid on his desk yet to be sealed confirmed exactly what purpose he had unearthed his old duelling pistols for.

Hearing her light steps, followed by the sharp sound of her drawing a breath, Burr turned to her and calmly assured the suddenly panicked young woman, "There is nothing for you to be concerned over, my dear. Please, go back to sleep."

She scoffed at the very suggestion. Cynical, she retorted, "I don't know how you can expect me to sleep when my Father, my sole remaining parent on this earth, is going to a duel. And I presume this is to be the climax of thirty years of disagreements with Mr Hamilton?" Burr nodded, patiently continuing to listen to her ongoing rant, "I must admit, after all the criticisms and insults you two have traded over the decades, I might have hoped for something a little more elegant than this. Suddenly you both decide that your eloquent, logical use of words is not as effective as filling one another with lead?" It was perhaps a fault of hers, however Theodosia could not help but be angry at those who hurt her.

Regardless of how well she masked her inner pain, the man who had taught her to act in such a manner could easily cast his penetrating gaze over her facade and see her true self: a cowering little girl, suddenly terrified about the fate awaiting her beloved Daddy. Sympathy exuded in every word, he tried to comfort the poor distraught girl, "I know you do not approve, but I have no other choice if I wish to remain worthy of the high esteem with which you regard me." She refused to meet his eyes or utter a response, leaving him to remind her, "I am not a fool, Theodosia. I will take every precaution -"

"Except for the very one which might save you: You _could_ refuse to attend, but instead you are opting to run the risk of turning your only child into an orphan," she snapped, though this time her aggression was tainted by a thin mist of tears. In all honesty, she could not bring herself to accept the fact that he was prepared to risk his life and in doing so her future for the sake of waging war with a lifelong rival. It was ridiculous, but more than that it was horrifically unimaginable. _You can not, under any circumstances, abandon me without my Father,_ she instructed silently, as if by some miracle the intensity of her wish might be conveyed to him even when her words could not realize the phrase.

Instead of further pity for his enraged but frightened daughter, he hardened his resolve, forcing himself to pretend that her premature grief had no effect on the genuinely sensitive man. She would barely be a shred more approving of his true intentions than she was of the prospect of him getting injured, and her blaming him for the upcoming meeting was doing anything but confirming that his decision was the correct one. _If I honestly believed I could turn away, I would do so. But I can not, especially since it has come so far..._ bitterly, he shifted responsibility onto his opponent, _Hamilton is too stubborn to allow me to let this go. But you can trust that I will not forsake the light of my life, dear._ His countenance became stiff and grim as he assured her, "I will ensure that you are not made an orphan, my darling Theodosia. That, I can promise you."

She shook her head finally succumbing wholly to the fearful sorrow as it swamped her, lamenting tearfully, "You can not possibly know that for certain, Daddy. He might -"

"He won't," Burr interrupted, more gently this time. He rose from where he still knelt on the floor, coming to stand before her to take her dainty hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze, an unspoken promise to accompany his verbal declaration, "I will make absolutely certain that he does not shoot. The opportunity will simply not arise." It was the truth, or at least, it was what he intended for the truth to be. But as he had become accustomed to doing over the years, he obfuscated, dancing around the true aim he held. _Alexander will not shoot - he will be incapable of doing so once I have fired my own weapon._

As he predicted, his optimistic daughter shared her mother's tendency to find the best possible outcome from a situation, and drew a very different conclusion: _Mr Hamilton will not have the chance to shoot, which means he surely has no intention of exchanging so much as a single bullet_. From the information Philip had told her regarding duelling etiquette during the many hours spent lounging beside him on his bed, she had learned that in many scenarios, men were unable to see how futile and pointless a duel would be until they arrived face to face with their opponent. On those occasion, the anxiety which always accompanied the presence of guns was enough to prompt the men to come to a peaceful resolution which would allow them both to leave one another in peace. And that, she decided, was precisely what Burr had planned. Somewhat relieved, she inhaled a slow, long breath to steady her nerves, before dredging up a smile from deep within herself. Though she was still saddened by the mere thought of her Father facing his enemy, she was soothed by the idea her mind had created. Opening her arms to him, she met him in a warm, affectionate embrace, mumbling into his jacket, "Be certain of your safety. I trust you to do the right thing - you won't harm him. No, you'll come home soon enough, having made me proud and resolved your disagreements."

He did not correct her. He did not dare face her wrath should he state his true intentions, well aware that his daughter could be precisely as fearsome when arguing her side of a debate as her mother had been many years ago. _My wife would not approve any more than my daughter,_ he realized with a touch of guilt. _But then, I have done a great deal of things my wife would not have approved of, and neither she nor our child could possibly change my mind. I know what must be done to ensure my safe return, and to protect us both from future conflicts with that family._ Nodding as he held her slim form close to him, he agreed, "I will most certainly do the right thing." _It just so happens that we have drastically contrasting opinions over what that is._

And so, reasonably comforted, Theo offered no more protests - not that her words would have had an impact on his firm determination to face Alexander - and allowed him to leave, trusting him to return safely within a few hours. She was not appeased enough that she could bring herself to return to her bed and attempt to sleep, however; she remembered only too clearly the recent duel which her former fiancee had been involved in, and how she had tried to sleep to no avail. From experience, she was aware that it would not provide her with a feeling of being well rested, rather it would only frustrate her that she was unable to so much as close her eyes. Therefore, she decided to busy herself about the house, distracting herself from the perilous situation awaiting Burr at Weehawken by setting herself down in the still-dim parlour room, only comfortable to perch on the edge of the sofa as if she might have cause to leap up at any moment. She reached out and absentmindedly selected a book, yet she could scarcely make out the familiar patterns of words on the page due to the way her mind was so distracted, preoccupied with fretting over her beloved Father. _If he had not sworn to do the honourable thing, I do not think I could tolerate this torment,_ she realized soberly. Even so, distant words were little comfort to the young woman when she sat completely alone in the house originally intended to hold all three members of her small but cosy family. And deep within her, there laid the dormant fear that she may never be reunited with either of her presently absent parents.

The waiting was torturous, which is why she felt such a wave of relief wash over her when she heard a knock at the door, despite the fact that she physically jumped in shock of the unexpected interruption. Presuming it to be Burr returned safely, and with no accurate judgment of how little time had truly passed since his departure, she hurried to open the door, only to be greeted with a breathless young woman rather than the man she wished to see more than any other in that moment. Nevertheless, she hid her disappointment well, politely greeting, "Angelica, what can I do for you?"

Too exhausted from her sprint along the driveway from where her cab was parked on the street, Angelica only panted, "Philip," by way of explanation, and shoved the small note into her hands.

Immediately, a thrill of delight rushed through her as she recognized his neat handwriting, felt the paper bearing his words between her fingertips. But there was something wrong. Some instinct she had previously been blind to caused her gut to twist in apprehension as she examined the script on the exterior of the note: It had been hand delivered, so there was no need for her address, only her name, Theodosia, yet she had seen that single word written by his hand countless times. There was something different in the way he wrote, barely noticeable to anyone who was not intimately familiar with every aspect of the young man. He had written a dash above the "i" rather than a neat dot, the line connecting the "o" to the "s" started marginally higher. The word as a whole looked to be slanted at a slight angle. Tiny differences, but crucial to the woman who noticed them. _For some reason, he was in a rush. Perhaps because he was certain that his Father was ready to shoot mine, or vice versa_. A cool feeling of renewed dread settled over her, all the more uncomfortable after her momentary happiness. Wasting no more time, she tore through the seal, swept up in the same urgency to read the note as Philip had been to write it.

Her suspicions of disaster were immediately fulfilled in the most dreadful way possible:

 _Dear Theodosia,_

 _There is so much I have to say to you, but that must wait. I would apologise if I had the time, but at this moment our priority must be the destinies awaiting our Fathers - I do not know how much you have been told, but they are going to duel one another today. I don't know of Burr's plans, but I know that Hamilton intends to shoot at the sky. I know you will not be pleased to hear this, as I know that we are both aware that your Father is a good man. But I also know that his fury towards my Father knows no bounds, and is most likely exacerbated by all that has passed between us, so I have good reason to suspect that he will not pass up the opportunity to end their rivalry indefinitely when the chance presents itself. I assure you, my Father is no threat, but yours is a very different matter. Please, Theo, do not let him rob my family of the man we adore. As much as you want to trust Burr, my instincts warn me he will not relent, regardless of my Father's actions._

 _Philip._

She did not say a single word, only considered those of the young man very carefully. _Father promised me he would not harm Mr Hamilton. Or, he assured me that Mr Hamilton would never have the opportunity to harm him. He never explicitly stated that he would cancel the duel, that was merely my assumption_ , she realized, an unexpected bout of nausea sickening her as she reflected, _the only thing he firmly promised was that he would not allow that man to make an orphan of me. He made no similar claim to protect Hamilton's own children_. She shook her head, equal parts struggling to dispel her discomfort and denying the possibility that she was willing to rely more on the words of her estranged lover as opposed to her Father. But she could trust Philip, she had always known that. He had let her down only one time, and that had been when he broke her heart. But he surely knew her well enough to realize that having a murderer as a Father would be yet another heavy blow to her happiness, and so his warning was perhaps an attempt to protect her from that.

 _Or it would have been_ , she realized, _if only I had read it before he left._ She stared up at Angelica, who was still thoroughly confused by the situation, and then her gaze drifted to the cab in the distance beyond her - the young Hamilton girl had instructed the driver to wait for her so that she might be returned home as soon as her sisterly duty had reached completion. Theo, on the other hand, suddenly discovered a far more beneficial use for the cab.

She dashed past the girl without sparing a breath to explain, and hurled herself into the carriage, shouting to the driver as she entered, "Please, drive!"

"Where to, Miss?"

Scanning her mind for an appropriate answer, she called out, "The pier at west 42nd street." _I'm sure I have heard of some boat crossings over the Hudson river traveling from there._ Somewhat familiar with New Jersey after her short stay there with her elder sisters a few years ago, she vaguely recalled hearing where the infamous duelling grounds were located. By her calculations, she should be no more than half an hour from them following the boat crossing from that point.

 _Philip must be correct. But I will not allow myself to lose my Father to prison, neither will I permit his to be killed in a senseless fight,_ she decided firmly, repeating the mantra several times in a futile shot at calming the relentless racing pace of her heart as it pounded within her chest. It was more than just morality and logic at stake, however. She vividly remembered the joy she felt upon seeing Philip's letter, which was a reminder if ever she needed it about her unwavering devotion to him. Just as emphatic, she instructed herself, _under no circumstances will I allow anyone, least of all my dear Philip, to be hurt._

* * *

"How much clearer can I possibly -"

"What don't you understand about the word No? That's the problem with you wealthy young lads, you expect your every whim to be pandered to! Well I'm sorry, Sir, but I am not going to change my mind. If you insist on travelling to New Jersey for some pleasurable stroll, you'll simply have to wait until I have more than one passenger willing to make the crossing," an irritable old man lectured, remaining stiffly in his position despite the tall, muscular young man demanding his services.

But Philip Hamilton was not willing to take orders from the old boatman who was blatantly oblivious to the gravity of the situation. The teenager had been unable to stay waiting patiently in his bedroom to hear what happened, yet he felt that the time he had spent debating whether or not to persue his Father had already been too long. Now he was eager not to waste a single heartbeat more, knowing from experience how quickly duels can begin, and how tragically soon after they can subsequently turn into perilous struggles for life. Which was something the gentleman operating the closest river crossing failed to comprehend, adamant that he should not serve single passengers. Taking a deep breath, the young man adopted an unintentionally patronizing tone as he slowly insisted, "It is not even dawn yet. There _are_ no other passengers. There _is_ , however, a young man willing to pay over the going rate who is desperate to cross the river and does not have the time to seek out another crossing point."

"Then perhaps you can find him, and the two of you can cross the river together. Until then, you'll just have to wait," the man snidely insisted, now enjoying his torture of the young man as much as he enjoyed sticking closely to his principles.

It was this scene that Theodosia discovered upon leaving the cab she had hijacked, recognizing her separated former lover from his impassioned tone before she even saw him squaring up to the boatman. A swift, heavy feeling of nerves settling upon her heart, however she swept it aside, far more focused on crossing the river in time to prevent disaster than reuniting with Philip. So she did not even allow herself to glance at him despite the fact that she ached with longing to fling herself into his arms, instead pouring all of her demanding attention onto the stubborn boatman as she approached him and suggested, "I would like to cross. I will join this gentleman, if he has no quarrel with that."

As soon as she arrived on the scene, Philip visibly stiffened, not expecting to see her doing precisely the same thing as he was. Noting that, the old man asked him on Theo's behalf, "Do you quarrel, Sir?"

"Quarrel, Sir? No, Sir," Philip replied, almost too quickly, instinctively recognizing the ironic similarity to a love story as passionate and foolish as his own romantic endeavours, with conflict intertwined within the tale much like in his own reality.

Theodosia couldn't help but smile, although the reference passed the boatman unnoticed, and he only begrudgingly ushered the pair on board, taking his place at the front of the vessel out of earshot of the former couple and leaving them to hurry impatiently aboard, sitting opposite one another in the small boat.

Originally, both were too anxious to dare break the silence, afraid that so much as a single word might set fire to the electric atmosphere crackling between them. After a couple of minutes, however, Philip could no longer stand to be left to ponder the awful images conjured by his active imagination, and had to distract himself in the only way currently available to him. Voice thick with nerves and eyes still trained exclusively on his feet, he muttered to Theo, "I suppose you got my letter?"

"Too late to dissuade my Father from attending, I'm afraid. But yes, I received your letter." A beat of silence followed, before she clarified, "I assume you received mine, though I can't be sure seeing as you neglected to reply?"

He glanced up at her, guilt removing years from his innocent face and painting him as a sweet young child accused of some menial crime. She couldn't resist the urge to giggle briefly, finding even the smallest thing humorous in the otherwise grim situation, which prompted him to dredge up a smile, easily falling into their familiar routine of warm teasing. "Yes, I saved every letter you wrote me. I just didn't know what to say..." words failed him as he realized exactly how much he wished to lay countless apologies at her feet and beg for forgiveness. _I've been so stupid, and so blind. But things must change, he concluded,_ mustering the courage to admit, "I know I behaved incredibly foolishly, and I was even more ridiculous to refuse to respond. I suppose I didn't think you deserved to be reunited with a man who could be so thoughtlessly insensitive over something genuinely sensible. You were right about the possibility of Burr hating our engagement, and I should never have pressurized you to tell him."

Theo shrugged, a bittersweet smile on her lips as she commented, "I wish it hadn't taken you so long to tell me that. It has been horrible, you know, being without you and missing you so dreadfully." _There has been so much time wasted, Philip. If we hadn't fought, perhaps we would have noticed our parents' growing animosity before it reached this point._

That small smile ignited a flame of affection in his heart, and he was bold enough to reach for her hands, tentatively holding them in his as he assured her, "I shared your pain, I swear it was awful. But I never stopped thinking of you, and hating myself for causing you so much hurt." Shy despite her hands squeezing his to comfort him, he murmured, "I thought you might be able to move on if I didn't contact you. You could find a good, sensible man your Father would approve of, and forget all about the chaotic Hamilton man who has caused you so much grief and emotional turmoil."

She shook her head, her smile reaching her dark, intense gaze and radiating brilliant sunshine for the first time since their separation, forgetting the chaos awaiting their parents as she dismissed his idea, leaning towards him to whisper, "I never want to forget that man - I love him."

Philip gasped, visibly surprised by the unexpected change. However, the feeling was more than mutual, and he was determined not to throw away perhaps the greatest blessing he had ever been offered for a second time. And so, he leaned forwards, mirroring her as he closed the remaining distance between their lips and kissed her with all the tender, genuine adoration he had longed to lavish on her ever since their split.

Theodosia melted into him, closing her eyes and losing herself to the dizzy delight presented by his sweet, passionate mouth against hers, freeing her hands from his to entangle her hands in his familiar silky curls, adamant that she would not let go of him this time either.

And then, just like that, it was over, that long period of uncertainty and heartbreak confined solely to the past, never to be revisited again. Their kiss, too, could not last forever, nevertheless they broke apart with matching grins of satisfaction. Theodosia was the first one to speak, smiling with the renewed confidence that only a woman who had just been reunited with her lover could ever possess as she insisted, "Much as I would love to repeat that, it appears we have almost reached the shore. Now there is no time to waste, as we absolutely must find our ridiculous Fathers before they do something stupid. And we can not allow that to happen."

Philip nodded, quickly remembering his first priority. Her nerves were as palpable as his own, and he thought it reasonable to place a gentle, affectionate hand on her cheek as he promised, "We won't. I promise, I won't let you down again."

* * *

 **A/N: Heyooo!**

 **So so so! They've gotta go interrupt the Ham Burr duel.**

 **"Do you quarrel" is a reference to Romeo and Juliet, and to be honest I am a massive fan of Shakespeare, hence a few bits inspired by it here and there. Other references include a teeny tiny snippet of a Laurens/Hamilton letter, which was so small you may have missed it.**

 **I know they were Hamilton's duelling pistols which were used, but hey, maybe Burr was cautious. And I have no idea about how crossing the Hudson worked in 1802, trust me, I looked. In the end I just consulted Google maps, there's a pier at west 42nd street, and it looks to be directly opposite to the duelling grounds, so I figured it was a decent guesstimate!**

 **Thanks for reading, next comes the last actual chapter! Dun dun duuunnn!**


	23. Chapter 23 - We'll make it right for you

**A/N: People! This is the last actual chapter! There's still an epilogue to come, but anyway, come cry with me about how emotional it is to reach the end of a story! Thanks again for your on-going support, you are incredible! And now, without further ado, I present to you the duel between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr...**

* * *

Chapter 23 - Summer 1802

The recently reconciled couple would have gladly procrastinated any other tasks which required their attention, desperate to claim back all of the wasted time that had passed between them. Even so, destiny was not so kind as to bend to accommodate their simple wishes, instead presenting them with the most demanding of challenges to complete, something which could not possibly wait lest their planned future together be compromised yet again. And so, neither of the pair had any reservations about setting aside their desire to display their love for one another for the time being, resolving to prioritize the lives of their squabbling Fathers over their immediate happiness.

As the boat skidded to a halt upon the pebbles resting just below the water on the opposite bank, they sprang immediately to their feet and instinctively followed a path marked by the countless footsteps of men furtively tracing the route having flattened the verdant growth rather than any specific notices instructing that it was the correct one. They were moving in unison like two parts of one body, or given their stoic determination perhaps they were more accurately compared to two complimentary mechanisms of the same machine. And indeed, they moved with almost inhuman levels of ambition driving every step as they disembarked from the boat, focused entirely on what laid directly before them: somewhere not too distant, the two men each adored and admired more than any other figure in their lives waited, one fully prepared to dispatch of the other so as to protect himself and his family from the harmful influence of the rival who had somehow managed to constantly overtake or hinder him in his every endeavour as well as the son of the man, who he was convinced gained most of his confidence in interacting with his daughter from the thoughtless, impulsive guidance offered by his Father. Meanwhile, entirely oblivious, the second man refused to change his mind at all, regardless of the logical pleas instructing him to do so. Alexander Hamilton was afflicted with the curse of being too stubbornly trusting of the first person he had befriended on American soil, and it was that unshakable faith that their former friendship would prevail over any amount of disagreements that would place him in the direct path of mortal danger.

Neither misguided gentleman could be permitted to make the awful mistake they had fixed their hearts on enacting. At least, that was the only view their children were willing to entertain. However, as they prepared for the fateful interview, it did not appear that they were set to waver from their goals in the slightest. Well aware of the urgency and almost feeling that they could sense the rumblings of tension and animosity brewing in the distance and drifting through the wooded area to strike fear into the matching hearts of the teenagers, they felt suddenly incapable of exchanging words. Typically, their conversations were warm and light, easy and comfortable, and it was obvious that anything even remotely close to their ordinary type of discussion was simply unattainable given the grim circumstances. Despite the fact that they knew that they could turn to each other as they had several times in the past and receive a sense of comfort and camaraderie, at that particular moment they could not face the prospect of voicing the awful situation, irrespective of the fact that confessing their concerns might win them some words or alternative type of comfort. To admit their fears would be to accept the very tangible reality that they could manifest into true nightmares, and both were in absolute agreement without even having to confer with one another that they would not even acknowledge the possibility of their venture failing.

But their joint denial was not a pressing issue; though tensions pulled heavily on both halves of the young couple, it was a tolerable burden to bear when they shouldered the weight of it together. Side by side, both Philip and Theodosia were nothing less than convinced that their united strength could not be overcome by petty disagreements which had festered for too long, gradually rotting away into something deadly. Something so morbid could surely be interrupted by one thing, and that, their juvenile minds full of innocent hope believed, was love.

And thankfully, despite all the obstacles in their way, love was one thing the pair had an abundance of.

From time to time, Philip would glance towards Theo, anxious that she might lose her nerve and decide she could not stomach the thought of interrupting the scene of gradually increasing violence, however his fears were unnecessary. Feeling his golden eyes upon her, she would flash a terse, strained smile, purely for the sake of reassuring her similarly uneasy lover. It was enough to convince him that she was alright - in fact, to an extent she truly _was_ managing the situation well enough. She would not be moved from her path towards the duelling grounds, even so that did not quite ensure that her mind was as steady and strong as her wide, resolute paces indicated. Rather, on the inside she was screaming, cruelly torturing herself with imagined scenes of already having reached the open field to discover she had been too late, illogically seeing her beloved Father with blood dripping from his hands and a sudden, engulfing wave of remorse crashing ferociously over him, sending him crumbling to his knees beside Mr Hamilton's dying form.

She had seen death before, in her Mother. And now, she was haunted by the awful terror that she might be forced to encounter it again.

She did not say any of this, being too frightened to admit even to herself that her darkest imaginings could become reality, let alone confess that to her dearest friend and lover, who would be infinitely worse affected by such an occurrence than she herself. But it was a testament to their enduring affection for one another that the young man sensed her fears regardless: he had become accustomed years ago to the way she, like her Father before her, sometimes preferred to hide her true emotions in an act of self preservation, saving her agony for her alone to overcome in solitude. By now, however, he knew her well enough to see through her undoubtedly courageous attempt at masking her inner worries from him, and despite the fact that they had recently fought over her reluctance to be blunt about her feelings, he was in that moment particularly capable of sympathizing with her. _She has every right to be fearful, and I must learn that it is not my place to intrude on her private musings. On the other hand, I adore this woman with the entirety of my heart, making it my duty to offer her any comfort within my power._

Which is why he tentatively reached for her hand, catching it in his and cradling it like this most precious of gemstones, combating the icy chill of her awful thoughts with the warm heat transferred to her in his affectionate touch.

Taken slightly by surprise, Theo turned quickly to face him, eyes widened at being caught off guard by his action. Yet she did not remain that way, instantly recognizing that familiar glow in his eyes, the genuine indication of his humble desire to ease her anxiety, even in the smallest way. And that was enough to banish her horrific imaginings from her mind, calming her enough that she could not deny an honest smile curling her lips into a sweet, timid curve.

Satisfied that he was doing something right, Philip continued along the path, not releasing her hand, but sharing a renewed sense of unwavering purpose with her. No amount of good company could deceive either of the couple into complacency, but it was enough that they were working together, supporting one another and striving to preserve the same fragile, beautiful dream.

* * *

Upon the bleak, exposed ground, the five figures stood out like scars on an otherwise unblemished landscape, milling about in their tiny clusters of twos or threes like spawning bacteria carrying deadly infections. Alexander had been blessed with the opportunity to select his position first, and took a tactical stance facing the sun as it began to creep slowly over the horizon, casting shimmers of golden fire onto the Hudson river, embers of dying fires sparkling dangerously as they threatened to blind him. Naturally, that was all part of his careful plot to present himself as a completely non-threatening opponent. In addition to that, the view of the city he had always adored being bathed in sunlight provided him a sense of calm reassurance: though a part of him knew it was certainly not true, he managed to deceive himself into believing that nothing bad could possibly occur when there was such a beautiful sight before him.

There was one thing contradicted his attempt at appearing defenceless, and it was that which struck the cynical Aaron Burr far more than the position Hamilton had chosen, and that was the fact that he had pulled from his pocket a pair of glasses. He carefully wiped them before placing them on his face and slowly pushing them up to sit on the bridge of his nose. Had Burr been capable of viewing Hamilton's thoughts as they raced through his brilliant mind like a hurricane, he would have known that he wore them purely to assist his deductions regarding the likelihood that Burr would shoot. Alas, there was no way for Burr to realize the honesty behind the actions, so it was rational for him to jump to the incorrect conclusion that Hamilton wore his glasses purely in order to ensure his usually flawless aim did not fail him on this fateful day.

No words were exchanged between the two men who were set to be engaging in the act of senseless violence, however they both took the time to consult with their respective seconds. Alexander muttered a brief warning to the doctor, before dismissing him to "lose" himself conveniently close to the duelling pair in the surrounding woodlands. Then it was simply he and Pendleton talking in hushed murmurs, shooting occasional suspicious looks to the unshakable opposition.

"Hamilton, are they to be your pistols or Burr's? You have both come equipped for this duel," the faithful second enquired, somewhat surprised that both men were so obviously prepared to partake in the fight. It sent a threatening message, as he perceived it, that they were so eager to shoot one another that both had arrived with their own set of duelling pistols so as to eradicate any possibility of postponing the engagement.

Unfazed and secure in his own sturdy mindset, Hamilton affirmed, "They will be mine. I was under the impression we had already agreed upon that." _My pistols served Philip well, even though he actively discharged a bullet. I must trust that they will bring matching fortune to me now, despite the fact that I intend to approach this disagreement in a thoroughly different way._ "I suspect Burr was simply forgetful, most likely too nervous about this duel to recall our agreement," he chuckled half heartedly, trying valiantly to prevent the true terrible gravity of the situation from setting in. But as he had always insisted, Hamilton was by no means stupid, and reluctantly recognized the connotations of bringing your own weapons to a fight even when there is no need to do so.

As tense as the preparing duellist ought to be, Pendleton checked, "In which case, should I set the hairline trigger?" Well acquainted with weaponry, he was aware of the additional feature present in Hamilton's pistols: if he calibrated the guns in a specific way, the tiniest touch would be enough to send a bullet hurtling towards the enemy, potentially something that could benefit Hamilton if he maintained his ambition of aiming at the sky - a plan of which the second had been informed. _Please, Hamilton, allow the hairline trigger. At least you will make your foolish intentions immediately apparent._

Regardless of the sense behind the question, Hamilton remained firm in his stance as he instructed, "No, that will not be necessary if neither of us shoots at one another. He will see I mean him no harm and follow suit." He saw a trace of grim resignation in Pendleton's expression, but still did not permit it to alter the course he was eager to follow. _You needn't look at me like it might be the last time you get the chance to do so_ , he thought, with a hint of irritation growing within him. _I do not see why people are so certain that this will descend into chaos, first my son and now my second. I am perhaps the sole person with enough mental clarity to place my faith in Mr Burr's underlying friendship with me_. None of these internal musings materialized from his mouth, however. Instead, he only nodded, and ordered, "You may clarify with Burr's second if there is any indication that Burr might withdraw his invitation to duel." In reality, he knew there was little chance of that occurring: to withdraw the invitation would be to accept responsibility, and to accept responsibility would inevitably entail admitting an apology, something neither men were tempted to do upon this occasion, both feeling more like a victim than an aggressor. With a slight, sarcastic smirk, he humoured the traditional duelling etiquette by saying, "This is a crucial discussion," _which we all know will be fruitless_ "but if it concludes without an agreement having been made, you will then remind him that we will be using my pistols."

"Yes, Sir," the other man muttered, visibly uneasy at what he had been told to do.

Meanwhile, Burr and Van Ness continued their own private discussion on the opposite side of the open field. Knowing of Burr's intentions to shoot but oblivious to Hamilton's drastically different aims, Van Ness was far less anxious than Pendleton, but there was still a trace of concern in his words as he reminded Burr, "You remember that Hamilton served in the army for some time during the revolution, do you not? Be aware that his aim may still be very accurate."

"I remember, but it is no concern of mine," Burr muttered, darkly sure of the course his actions must take: he had made a promise to survive, and he would do whatever it took to ensure he honoured his word. "If his bullet is bound to hit me, then I must simply guarantee that mine hits him before he has the opportunity to fire.

Van Ness nodded, trusting Burr's wise judgement despite the fact that it may have dreadful consequences. "In which case, I think we are ready for me to have the final discussion with Hamilton's second."

Burr nodded, fixing his hardened gaze on Alexander and regarding him with an unreadable expression. Internally, he felt a pang of regret that it had come to this - _we were allies once upon a time, friends, even._ But he could not afford to hold on to those memories of years long passed, forcing himself instead to remember the decades since their youth, the years of taunting and criticizing and ceaseless competition in Burr's every endeavour. And then, his mind rested briefly on the image of his daughter weeping in his arms, mourning a future she had planned with Hamilton's eldest son. It was that which ignited the strongest flame of fury within him, fuelling him to be filled with absolute tenacity in pursuing his goal. It was not even Alexander's fault, at least not directly. But Burr himself surely would not accept responsibility for making his daughter cry, even though it was her fear of his reaction that had triggered the rift in their relationship and the chasm in her heart, leaving him with no alternative but to blame Hamilton for raising his son to be so thoughtless. So rather than withdrawing his offer to duel, he warned Van Ness, "Do not make any compromise on our side. If he apologises, there are worthier pursuits than following this argument through to completion. But I know him well enough to realize that he will not withdraw his offensive comments, so you may take it as a fact that shots will be fired this morning."

With that, his second left his side to meet with Pendleton in the centre of the clearing. Their talk lasted barely half a minute, for both had learned to expect that neither of the duelling men were likely to display any hesitation in proceeding with the affair of honour. And, as predicted, both returned to their respective duellist with nothing but a grim, resigned countenance and the confirmation that the duel was set to proceed.

From there, it moved quickly, with both opponents selecting one of Hamilton's pair of pistols and standing directly opposite one another, toe to toe, eye to eye, weapons in their hands and prepared to unleash the culmination of 30 years of disagreements.

The paces began, ten for each man in the opposite direction from their opponent, feeling everything, the very universe watching and waiting, not a whisper of wind stirring the grass as though fate herself was holding her breath in anticipation. The complete removal of every sound save for that of their own footsteps turned the quiet vibrations of boots hitting the ground into loud, ominous echoes of thunder, the predecessors of a terrible storm. It took a matter of seconds for the paces to be completed, yet the time seemed to stretch out for an eternity.

Or just long enough for two youths to spot the scene unfolding as they made their way towards the clearing.

Philip and Theodosia were still surrounded by the forest as it gradually reduced in density, too far away to call out to either man and attempt yet again to rationalize with either stubborn party, but that didn't prevent them from breaking into a run as they tore across the decreasing area between themselves and the duel, ignoring the brambles strewn across their path which clawed at their legs and turned silk skirt and cotton trousers alike into lace.

Unhindered by the slight ongoing discomfort from a previous experience on the very same duelling grounds, it was Theodosia who burst onto the open field first, having released Philip's hand in order to race ahead. View no longer obscured by the trees, she could see the entirety of the clearing, the two anxious seconds watching while both men took a final step, before turning around and raising their weapons, a look of detachment in the eyes of Hamilton and a chilling look of rage in the eyes of her beloved Father.

As both men placed their fingers on the trigger of their own gun, a piercing scream from the young woman punched the belly out of the air before either bullet had a chance to be released. Milliseconds later, two loud shots rang out, followed by a splintering crack and a gasp of pain.

But _not_ the much-feared thud of a body as it fell to the ground, permanently winded.

Alexander had pulled the trigger, an unintentional spasm forcing his raised hand to twitch and send a bullet flying directly into a branch above him, burying itself in the bark rather than the flesh of Aaron Burr. Hamilton himself was not unscathed, however, and a shock of pain beginning in his wrist and running all the way along the length of his arm left him dizzy: in reaction to the single most horrific sound he had ever encountered, the scream of his precious daughter, Burr's arm had shaken, sending his bullet a few inches directly to the right of the spot he had intended to strike. Instantly, the challenged man felt great swell of remorse rise inside him, guilty that he had so much as hit his friend, despite the fact that it had not been fatal.

Which is not to say it didn't cause the victim significant discomfort. Even so, Hamilton managed to stay on his feet, adrenaline and surprise motivating him to maintain a strong stance and challenge the duo who had caused this interruption far more effectively than the agony in the limp limb tempted him to rest. He was undoubtedly shocked to see Theodosia bursting through the trees, but he was even more stunned to see his own son following her, both breathing heavily from their urgent chase through the forest, leaving him to call to the pair, "What on earth are you doing here?"

"We had to put an end to this quarrel," Philip shot back, made almost aggressive due to his underlying worry for both men. He quickly saw the gory red stain seeping through Hamilton's shirt, however, and at once he forgot his frustration and approached his Father, supporting him with an arm around his shoulder and guiding him towards the path from which he had just emerged. "To shoot one another is a terrible mistake, one you would both regret immensely." _And one which could have shattered my relationship once more._

"You knew I was never going to -" Hamilton began to stammer, only to stop when he noted Burr's scathing glare upon him at his attempt to argue. _This intervention may have been for my safety rather than his._ On this rare occurrence, he had the sense to be quiet and allow the truth to be explained to him.

Gathering her tattered nerves together, Theodosia's voice was still hoarse and breathless as she lamented bitterly, "We knew _you_ , Mr Hamilton, would not shoot, but the same cannot be said for my Father." Allowing the full force of her disappointment to flood into her words, twisting the knife of guilt deeply into Burr's heart, she moaned accusingly, "Daddy, how could you do something so terrible? You have shot your -" _well, not really your_ friend _, I suppose_ "- the Father of my dearest and oldest friend, and had we arrived a single second later, you might have slaughtered him!"

Their was burning rage in her eyes glittering beyond her emotive tears, and for the first time, Burr saw clearly how ridiculous the entire event had been. _An apology is due - not for what I intended to do, but for hurting my sweet girl so awfully._ Starting towards her, abandoning his pistol on the ground and leaving all indications of a desire to continue the duel firmly in the past, her murmured, "My dear Theodosia, I never wanted to upset you. Please understand, I could not set aside my honour simply so that you could preserve a loyalty to a childhood friendship which I assumed to be confined to the past." Even then, he had to grimace at Philip's presence beside his daughter, looking for all the world as though he belonged there. Hardening his tone, he explained definitely, "In choosing to engage in this duel, I made the decision that it was far more important than infantile friendships with fools willing to thoughtlessly discard the most perfect of hearts."

"You are right, on this occasion," Philip interrupted Burr's lecture with an unprecedented level of optimism in his voice. "This expression of undying hatred is, of course, something which surpasses the need to defend the friendship between both of your offspring." Noticing Theo's confusion, he grinned, releasing a splash of sunshine into the dawn, and warned Burr, "Saying that, your argument does not take priority over the love shared by Theodosia and I." For the first time in his life, he had the courage to express his true, raw feelings for her while Burr watched in alarmingly close proximity. Undeterred by that intimidating factor, he took hold of her hands between his and sweetly confessed to her, "I was a fool to turn away from the greatest gift in my life. Now I know that being apart brings to me nothing but strife. I need you with me, that much is clearly evident, so I will now have the courage to set a precedent, and ask you for the third time if you would take pride in doing me the honour of being my bride." Swept up in the romance of his impromptu poetry, he felt as though the single thing possible of conveying his deep affection for her was to propose, hence the way he hastily dropped down to one knee to rephrase, "Theodosia Burr, will you marry me?"

Her pulse stopped, utterly stunned by the unexpected offer. Even so, a feeling of huge joy began to swell inside her, threatening to cause her heart to burst out of her chest. She didn't even realize she was grinning with delight, however when she turned to her Father to silently request his blessing, it was all he could focus on. Softened by her obvious euphoria and his own regret, he reflected sombrely: _If she believes that this is the solution to finding true happiness, who am I to interrupt? I have caused her enough concern today._

Burr gave a small, non-committal nod, before the responding awe in Theo's face prompted him to smile warmly at her, filling her with the confidence in his permission that she had wanted.

Turning back to Philip, she pretended to debate the proposal, muttering with a sly smirk, "I'm sure I warned you last time that I consider your repeated proposal somewhat vain. In fact, after three times it seems to be becoming something of a habit." Her playful criticism was never meant to offend him, and her unfailing smile removed any chance of him being hurt by her.

Equally teasing, he clarified, "I can promise that I won't ask again. So is that a yes?"

Declining to reply initially, Theodosia instead raised her eyebrows before touching her neck and locating a familiar chain without once breaking eye contact. Pulling on it so as to unearth the chain from where it hid tucked amongst her corsets, she revealed a pendant which still held the crumpled poem he had written for her years ago, and the recent addition of a golden ring bearing a sparkling diamond hanging just beside it. Slowly, she removed the chain from her neck to retrieve the ring, then slid it onto her own finger. It was only then that she agreed, "Yes, I think I will."

At once, Philip became a physical mass of pure elation, and saw it necessary to sweep his childhood sweetheart into his arms and spin her through the air, her giggles a drastic contradiction to the sort of sounds so often heard on that duelling grounds. When he set her back down on the ground, neither of them could truly sense the earth beneath their feet due to the fact that their spirits seemed to soar miles above, intertwining and celebrating with all the jubilation of the couple themselves. Even so, their dizzying delight was no issue when they had one another to collapse into, holding each other close and melding their bodies together as fiercely as the circumstances would allow.

As his adrenaline began to melt away and his arm throbbed with an incessant ache, Hamilton realized that it was definitely a change for the better. Pulling his gaze away from the young couple and managing to talk cordially to Burr despite the fact that he still cradled his struck limb and had to grit his teeth, he remarked, "Do you know, once this is over, I think I will talk against the need for every citizen to carry guns. It can only lead to senseless violence." Both men glanced to his bloodied arm, in silent agreement for once that it appeared that the shorter man was indeed correct.

Begrudgingly offering a hand to shake, Burr was grateful for any excuse to look away from the sight of his future son in law embracing his daughter so tightly - though it was a sight he would learn to respect and even appreciate. So he engaged in the conversation, deciding, "I think we ought to put this behind us, for their sake." As Hamilton shakily raised his arm to accept the handshake, Burr pointed out, "I also think I should locate the doctor to tend to your wound."

"Just wait a minute," Hamilton interjected, his mind already beginning to whirr into action as the anticipation which had blinded him to reality cleared like mist on a summer day, "I wanted to invite you to work with me. Nothing could send so strong a message as a repentant duellist and the injured party working in unison to achieve shared victory."

"Because you did nothing wrong in this scenario?" Burr asked, more bemused than actually outraged. As he discovered, there is a limit to how angry one can be when it appears their pride and joy has been granted a pathway to eternal contentment.

"I see no bullet wound in you, Sir," Hamilton retorted, though suddenly it was the kind of amiable discussion they had once been used to long ago in the days of their youth of half-serious challenges rather than the venomous insults hurled viciously to one another.

Chuckling, caught up in the sheer surrealism of the moment, Burr agreed, "You're right about that. Very well then, I will join your endeavours, and perhaps we may both benefit from you pen for once. Although," he added as an afterthought, "I must admit I will be glad of the few months of reprieve from your relentless pace at writing such harsh, intransigent words. Perhaps I might have some peace while you heal."

But instead of taking it in relatively good humour as expected, Hamilton had to stifle a loud burst of laughter. At Burr's quizzical expression, he revealed, "It may have slipped your notice, but my dear wife is on the closest of terms with me. Many times previously, she has been only too happy to assist me when my wrist is so sore that it is impossible for me to write, and I can assure you, this will be no different."

A sudden, honest look of absolute horror crossed Burr's face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced with his winning smile. Mildly, he commented, "That is wonderful news."

Shaking his head, Hamilton grunted, "There is no need to lie to me. But if you assist me immediately to the boat, I may spare you my letters for a while." His tone may have been rough and dismissive, but there was an undeniable shimmer of warmth in his gaze behind the blatant exhaustion he felt.

Happy to compromise on this occasion, Burr instantly called to his second, instructing him to clear the duelling grounds of their equipment, and ordering Hamilton's right hand man to join him, together supporting Alexander between them as they made their way towards the boat so that the teetering man did not fall and do himself further damage.

This swift exit left Theo and Philip in secluded privacy, the once threatening field transformed into a secretive, romantic glade. Comfortable at last, the young pair dared to indulge in a deep, adoring kiss away from the judgemental eyes of their Fathers, relishing the rare opportunity to marvel at the sweet sensation of being completely enveloped in one another.

Lingering close to Philip's lips when they eventually broke apart, Theo murmured coquettishly, "I think that went well enough. Even though your Father did get shot -"

"It would have been so much worse without you," Philip completed the sentence on her behalf, pausing to peck gently at her lips again before continuing in a serious, awed tone, "I owe you so much, my dear Theodosia. You have given me something I can not ever repay. If there was some way I could -"

"Shush, you're gushing," Theodosia cut him off in a gentle whisper, placing a finger on his lips to silence him. "I want nothing from you. Just..." she paused to consider an acceptable request, before settling on, "let me inside your heart, and trust that I won't break it. That would be enough. That is all I need from you."

Philip nodded, golden eyes wide with affection as they met her dark, enchanting eyes and answered, "I will, I promise. And you must do the same."

As Theodosia smiled once more and pulled him towards her for yet another passionate kiss, both halves of that couple were convinced that it was a promise they were both more than capable of keeping.

* * *

 **A/N: EEEEE ARE YOU PLEASED BECAUSE I SURE AM!**

 **So yeah, Theo screamed, Burr kinda jumped and missed striking him right between the ribs, and Hamilton shot a tree (which really happened. His second cut off the branch to use as evidence in the trial to show that Hammy had made it obvious that he wasn't going to shoot Burr so Burr was actually a murderer.). And also, fun fact, when he was dying, Hamilton mentioned that he wanted to speak against duelling in the future, having seen first hand how dangerous it was, and I thought he would maybe want to work with Burr seeing as, um, what was it? OH YEAH PHILLY AND THEO ARE ENGAGED FOR REAL THIS TIME! GO PHILIDOSIA! And so they need to sort their arguments out. As you can see, the epilogue is not here yet. But don't worry, I should be able to write it when I'm on the coach to Italy and post it as soon as I get home! Stay tuned, if you liked this then I think you'll enjoy the epilogue too!**

 **Thank you so much for reading, you are all so incredible! xxxxxx**


	24. Epilogue - Someday, someday

**A/N: CRY WITH ME, IT'S COMING TO AN END, MY LOVELY READER FRIENDS! (Honestly, I am getting teary. I think I will be sobbing by the time I finish editing this!) There are no words to express my gratitude for reading this, truly there are an unbelievably large number of you and it blows my mind. Your kindness and support is astounding, and I have tried my best to give you the ending you deserve! So, without further ado, I invite you to embark on the adventure that is the epilogue to Dear Theodosia.**

* * *

Epilogue - Someday, someday

For a man who had initially been so disapproving of his future son in law, Aaron Burr was inescapably overjoyed when the fateful wedding day arrived. If he were the type of gentlemen to be brutally honest, he would confess that he still continued to hold reservations about the wisdom behind Theodosia's choice in a future husband. But Burr was not that kind of man, and instead he forced himself to forget his personal doubts due to the fact that it was all too evident that his daughter had no qualms about her upcoming marriage. And when the young woman emerged from her dressing room before him draped in a delicate white gown and wearing a brilliant, wide grin which sparkled in exactly the same way as her dress, it was much simpler to recall the advantages of their amorous relationship: along with the fact that it had undeniably eased some of the tension in the fractious relationship between himself and Alexander and guaranteed her a comfortable future with an intelligent college graduate with boundless potential, it was impossible to ignore the fact that she was so much happier when she was at his side than when she was not, and even during the rare occasions when they were apart, she continued to exude jubilation purely because she was satisfied in the knowledge that their lives were set to be permanently joined. And on his part, Philip had learned his lesson from being proud and ridiculous, and had never once since their last argument displayed anything less than absolute adoration towards his future bride. So Burr, too, was learning, albeit slowly, to respect the bond between the couple.

And on the day of their wedding, he could do nothing but grin and make a futile but valiant attempt to blink away the tears of pride from his eyes. Taking hold of her hands in an expression of paternal affection, he remarked, "You look truly stunning, my dear Theodosia. Your Mother would be as honoured to be your parent as I am." _You see, my absent love, I have not done so poorly without the guidance of your wisdom,_ he reflected, feeling a definite sense of connection to his absent wife as he directed his internal musings to her.

A hint of a blush darkening her cheeks, Theo replied, "Thank you, Daddy." Lowering her voice to a sombre murmured, she continued with heartfelt gratitude, "You have given me so much throughout my life - the best education, anything my heart could wish for and more, and the love of an army of people rather than one single heart. And now, in supporting Philip and I you have given me the key to future happiness too." Her voice cracked with feeling, and a single tear rolled slowly down her cheek, but it in no way detracted from her unfailing delight.

Offering her his handkerchief, Aaron Burr commented, "Come now, my dear, your wedding day is no time for tears." _Not yours, at least. As for me, on the other hand, I suppose I should be upset at the prospect of losing my darling daughter. No, not losing her_ , he corrected himself, _only sacrificing her constant company and allowing her to flourish without my protection acting as something of a hindrance_. He told her as much, attempting to lighten her serious mood by teasing, "You needn't be so sentimental, Philip Hamilton is not going to steal you from me forever!"

"No," she chuckled with a delicate sniff, "not forever, not by a long way. Just two weeks, for our honeymoon, and then we'll be back here, visiting you every day." Burr had not been expecting such a generous pledge, and was visibly touched by it, prompting Theo to take her turn to comfort him, "You don't honestly believe I could go without seeing you every day again simply because I am married, do you? I have lived like that once before, and I do not want to resurrect that experience."

He nodded slowly, absorbing the information which had been apparent since the moment he first held his little girl in his arms, which was that she had an endless capacity for kindness and sensitivity. Not intending to voice his thoughts, he muttered distractedly, "No man is deserving of you."

"And yet I believe otherwise," Theo swiftly disagreed, passing him back his handkerchief as she removed all trace of bitterness from her demure features, leaving behind only sweet anticipation.

"In which case," Burr submitted, offering his arm to her, "we had better get you married to him before I change my mind about allowing you to do so!"

Theodosia giggled, knowing he meant nothing by it, and nodded, taking his arm as she inhaled a deep breath. Turning to him, she grinned, eyes dancing with excitement and anticipation, and whispered briskly, scarcely able to believe it was happening, "Let's go and get me married!"

* * *

In the mind of Philip Hamilton, there were few things as incredibly stunning on an almost fantastical, awe inspiring level as the sound of water surrounding you as it tumbles majestically down the infinitely tall cliffs, softening the jagged edges of the rocks with the peaceful silver stream rushing onto them constantly, spraying you with a fine but ceaseless mist which soon soaks through your clothes and offers sweet, merciful relief from the gloriously warm summer sun. And yet, all of that wonder was somehow made even more incredible due to the presence of his lifelong best friend, teenage sweetheart and new wife in his arms as they cradled her gently around her waist, admiring the same sight as he did while she leaned into his chest, her contentment apparent from the way she seemed to melt into him, her relaxed stance almost enabling them to become a single body.

Simultaneously considering how delighted she was to be sharing the beautiful experience with the love of her short life as a 20 year old woman, she twisted around, confident in the solitude offered upon that small bridge above Niagara falls, stretching her arms around her husband's next and pulling him down slightly to rest his forehead upon hers and allowing her to gaze into the hazel eyes she adored. There were no words to describe the overwhelming sense of unadulterated love and safety she felt in that moment, so she could do nothing but smile, hoping it would convey to Philip Hamilton how joyful she was.

He had always been attuned to the emotions held within her despite the occasional shield covering her heart, and although she had learned to trust him enough now to never shut him out, his skill was no less effective, permitting him to see from that simple gesture alone how much she cared for him - not that he _needed_ any confirmation of that fact. Returning her smile, he moved his hands up her back to hold her even more firmly against him and closed the tiny remaining distance between their lips, enveloping her smile in his own as they relished the simple experience of being together, her warm lips both tantalizing as they teased about further pleasures unable to be shared upon that bridge and still being inviting as they permitted him to kiss her as deeply as he pleased.

They did not truly separate, but returned to staring affectionately into one another's souls as they lazily laced their fingers together, bringing their knotted palms up to eye level so that they might both admire the two rings worn by the young woman - one, the single most expensive purchase of her husband's previously to their new, modest house in uptown New York, and the other a trinket once worn by the elder Theodosia Burr, a simple golden band which had never lost it's alluring gleam due to the departed woman's appreciation for the piece which symbolized her marriage and her husband's careful preservation of it since she passed away.

Philip did not break eye contact as he kissed first the engagement ring, then the wedding ring, then each of his wife's fingertips, cherishing every part of her in reach of his loving mouth. She giggled, a subtle blush decorating her cheeks and setting the 21 year old's heart fluttering once more and prompting him to murmur, "I love you, my dear Theodosia Hamilton."

Blissfully closing her eyes and revealing her neck to his tumbling stream of kisses and allowing his hands to leave hers in favour of roaming the familiar plains of her body, she replied, "I love you too, Philip Hamilton."

* * *

"Alexander, won't you please -"

"Eliza, listen," the stubborn man implored, "it is a matter of principle. He cannot reasonably expect me to allow him to do something like this without consequences, particularly when we were supposedly working together to strive for joint ideals in a partnership. Which, might I remind you, was enacted because he shot me and we - or more accurately _I_ \- wanted to amend our fractured bond," he argued, trying fruitlessly to present his irritation in an offhand manner. In reality, however, that was impossible for the man who could never hide his true feelings, regardless of how nonsensical they may be.

"He attended one meeting without you, that is all, and acting with such a lack of reticence is something he learned from you," Eliza sighed, forcing herself to keep her voice tightly controlled, at a low enough volume that it would not disturb her sleeping infant cradled in her arms, the latest addition to the Hamilton brood who had been named after his eldest brother. "Love, I can tell you that after giving birth to eight children, I know without a shadow of a doubt that they ought to be far harder to placate than any grown man, you included. If little Phil can doze in peace after a single lullaby, I do not think it is too much to ask that you can be civil with Mr Burr for one dinner following my very logical argument."

Frowning, Hamilton complained, "Do not use my youngest son as a tool for emotional blackmail. You know full well that he should have warned me about any meeting regarding our joint endeavours -"

"And I also know that this meeting was very last minute, as do you, given the amount of times he explained that upon your last meeting," his wife scolded as she interrupted gently. "And if you are so opposed to my using your youngest son as a tool of emotional blackmail, I shall use your eldest instead: Philip is married to Aaron Burr's daughter, and if you cannot manage one single evening without arguing with him, I don't think either half of the happy couple will be at all happy with _you_."

Alexander pondered her reasoning, before allowing himself to begrudgingly mutter, "I cannot promise I will hide my irritation from him."

"But?" Eliza invited him to compromise, taking his hand as though she might somehow share some of her own compassionate understanding with him through the contact.

"But..." he huffed, and reluctantly decided, "I _might_ be able to refrain from hurling blatant abuse at him, if it means so much to you, my love."

Elizabeth would have made him shake hands to seal his word had there not come a knock on the door on that very instant. Passing the baby Phil, named in honour of their admired eldest son, to her husband, she hurried into the hall and flung open the door to greet the trio waiting on the porch: her son and daughter in law, accompanied by Aaron Burr. Perhaps it might have been a trick of the light, but she thought she saw genuine kindness in the smile of the eldest man, something which was becoming less and less of a rarity since he had seen his Theodosia happily wed. Rather than questioning it, she instead wrapped first Philip, then Theodosia, in a warm, maternal hug, treating both of the pair as her true children: It was never her intention to replace the elder Theodosia Burr's position as the mother to the young girl, nor was Theo attempting to find herself a new mothering influence. But they had always been on good terms, and the new bond between them strengthened with every regular meeting, as did the affection displayed by the entire Hamilton family to the recent addition to their ranks.

In fact, previously to the altercation between Aaron and Alexander, there had been no significant disagreements to speak of at all in the six months since the two illustrious families became one. That said, the small fracture in the glaze on the otherwise perfect picture did add a palpable tension to the group, particularly when Hamilton emerged beside his wife and greeted with an obviously ingenuine sneer meant to mimic Burr's far more convincing smile, "Mr Burr, _Sir_. How _wonderful_ to have your company."

His colleague was prepared to humour him, but the host turned sharply on his heels and marched away before he could reply. With a sigh of exasperation, Elizabeth realized it was as close to civil as her husband was capable of being at that moment in time, and shaking her head with an apologetic smile, invited, "You must all come in. Alexander has simply gone ahead to check that everything is just right for this dinner." _And it had better be, my darling fool, else you will have my wrath to face,_ she threatened internally. Externally, she gave no indication of her slight concern, only stepped aside to allow the trio to enter.

Theo and Philip went unnoticed as they loitered hesitantly at the rear of the group, Theodosia leaning in towards her husband to whisper, "I have the most terrible feeling that something is going to occur to make this dinner intolerably difficult." _As if that greeting did not already set the stage for some later battle._

Philip only grinned with a playful shrug as he reminded her, "They have seen worse disagreements that this, and emerged on friendly terms. And even if something _does_ happen, I am certain we will be able to distract them from any tension." He took hold of her hands and pulled her to catch up to Eliza and Aaron, who had already made their way into the dining room and settled at the table, along with their younger siblings and the belligerent Alexander Hamilton senior. The couple took the two spare seats and shared a reassuring glance with one another, before turning their focus to the two eldest men, who had already begun their senseless bickering.

"I suppose I should express regret that our meal is not yet ready, given the fact that one person seated at this table has shown himself to be incapable of patience when it comes to allowing me to partake in something," Hamilton muttered snidely, with a glance towards Burr.

"And yet," Burr met his immature challenge readily, "previously you have criticized me for being willing to bide my time and demonstrate flawless patience. So which aspect of my character is more detestable to you, Alexander, or are _your_ opinions as inconsistent as you have previously claimed _mine_ to be?" He cocked a brow, fully prepared for the discussion to become a debate should the other man be willing.

"Daddy," Theodosia warned sternly, though it had no impact on either party.

Pondering it thoughtfully, Hamilton decided, "I think both traits are irritating, and it would be impossible to pinpoint which is the greater of two mirroring evils."

Philip shook his head and gritted his teeth in annoyance as her growled, "Father, this is not suitable conversation for a family gathering." _Particularly when the man you happen to be arguing with is my Father in law._

"Nonsense, son," Burr contradicted with a grin to the young man, "If your Father is willing to entertain us all with his jesting about my behaviour, I would be more than happy to return the favour." His grin growing at the opportunity to unleash his private irritations which had brewed for the past couple of days, he began, "I think primarily it is necessary to remind Alexander how his relentless pace has more than once swamped people interested in hearing our arguments for gun control."

"Well at least I am always entirely upfront with my ambitions - to _everyone_ involved," Hamilton retorted, scarcely more mature than a toddler and with a pout on his lips which made him appear even younger than the slumbering infant he had passed to Eliza.

Burr leaned forwards, a hint of menace in his challenging stance, but before he could utter another syllable, the noise which never failed to interrupt his endeavours did just that; with a shout of massive frustration, Theodosia bellowed, " _Enough_!" Stunned into silence, all eyes turned to her as she struggled to compose herself sufficiently enough to murmur, "You must stop arguing, it is not healthy to quarrel over something so minor, especially when you are both as flawed but simultaneously brilliant as each other." She blinked once, and took a deep breath, during which Philip reached again for her hand, wordless consent for what he suspected was to follow. Turning to face him and recreating her husband's smile as she felt the warmth of it spread across her skin, Theo revealed, "Whether you are willing to act like adults or not, you will soon see exactly how miraculous the combination of both of your sets of unique talents can be." Elizabeth gasped, but so as to clarify for the rest of the audience, Theo confirmed, "Philip and I are expecting a baby. So you see, in a time not so far from now, we will all discover that your shared descendant will have the potential to be every bit as wonderful as you _both_."

Expecting mother and father exchanged a look of absolute pride, before turning to see the reaction of the Hamilton clan and Aaron Burr: a colourful array of shock, excitement and emotion radiated from each person sat around the table, but perhaps most noticeable change to the couple who had unveiled the calming news was the immediate absence of negative atmosphere amongst them, as though it had evaporated without a trace.

And as a slow, intimate applause rose from the small gathering, it was the peace of the moment which resonated most strongly within Philip and Theodosia's matching hearts. The final unifying piece of the puzzle was on the way, the last connection which would present an irrevocable bond between the young lovers as well as their tempered relatives. And so, regardless of minor arguments, both felt an overwhelming certainty that everything was going to be just fine.

 _It may not be effortless, and there may still be complications,_ Theodosia reflected. _But I know one thing without a shadow of a doubt that we will all be united in our love for this baby_. Returning to meet her husband's adoring golden eyes, she mentally corrected, _our baby, the firstborn child of Theodosia and Philip Hamilton._ Closing her eyes luxuriantly as she leaned to place her head on her other half's shoulder, she decided to promise the unborn life developing inside her, _you will be the most loved child on earth, because you will be surrounded by joy and affection._ She regarded first Philip, then her teary Father, then the line of Hamilton siblings, and then Alexander and Eliza, before glancing at her own stomach. _We will all adore one another, and as a family we will cherish you so deeply, my love. And in doing so, we will raise you to have the brightest of futures, building the foundation for you to blow us all away._

With Philip's arm draped protectively around her and a series of compliments and congratulations already flowing from the mouths of various members of the supportive crowd, she had every reason to be completely sure of her ability to keep her promise.

* * *

 **ANNOUNCEMENT**

 **There could potentially be a multi chapter sequel to this story, but even if not, I intend to write at least a one-shot exploring Alexander and Aaron's adventures in babysitting. And to do that, we need a baby name, and I am incapable of making decisions, so please go to my profile and vote in the poll for what the baby should be called! Or if you have another great idea or are not able to vote due to not having an account, please comment suggestions! Thank you, and may the best name win!**

* * *

 **A/N: IT'S FINISHED, PEOPLE! And there is a baby on the way! (I know I romanticized that kid a lot just then, in reality I strongly believe that a foetus is not a person until it can survive outside the womb - maybe I don't need to clarify that, but I don't want any of my fellow pro-choicers getting offended, I am totally with you, by the way.)**

 **Okay so! There is potential for a sequel, I suppose, though I almost don't want to interrupt the peace by creating a new dramatic storyline! There is also potential for an Aaron Burr x Theodosia Senior prequel, which could be fun! I don't know what comes next, but I think I'll probably write a couple of one shots before embarking on another longer story. But stay tuned, and thanks so much for your time!**

 **Oh, and Italy was amazing, if you were interested. I got the opportunity to perform Burn in front of 500+ people on two nights, it was terrifying but brilliant! And I sort of tanned, which is rare for a redhead!**


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